


Moans From Temeria VOLUME II {The Witcher X Reader Smut} - ON HIATUS

by GaunterODimm



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaunterODimm/pseuds/GaunterODimm
Summary: ~ A collection of new requests ~Estimated update days: 2nd and 4th Sunday of each month.
Relationships: Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff Godefroy/Reader, Eskel (The Witcher)/Reader, Gaunter O'Dimm/Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader, Lambert (The Witcher)/Reader, Triss Merigold/Reader, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg/Reader
Comments: 27
Kudos: 291





	1. F.A.Q.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Discord Server: https://discord.gg/aSgNTHf

Hey there lovely readers!

Welcome to Volume II of _Moans From Temeria!  
_In this first chapter, I will answer a few frequently asked questions that I’ve seen in my inbox a few times.  
  


* * *

**1 – Where can I request?**

You can request via my discord server which is mentioned in the notes above.  
On there, there is a specific channel meant to request. On the top, you can see if they’re open or not! In the pinned comment, you can find the form you have to use to request.

**2 – Can you write (character)?**

I only write characters that are requested. If you want to know which requests are pending, it can be found in the pinned comment in the aforementioned discord channel. Please read the READ ME file on the rules channel to see what fandoms I write for (and which characters I don’t write!)

**3 – How often do you update?**

Given I have a very busy personal life, I will try to keep the _rules_ channel up to date (Discord). I will try to develop a regular schedule for this book, but I can't promise anything yet.

**4 – Can you write a part two of (chapter name)?**

No, I don’t write part-twos. I want readers to be able to read every chapter as standalone, so they can skip over prompts they don’t like. However, you’re free to write your own part-twos to my chapters, provided to let me know beforehand! I’d love to read what you create!

**5 - Do you write for male readers?**

No. Since I identify as female, I feel like I would never be really able to write well for a male. I'm very sorry, but it's just how I am as a writer. 

* * *

This list might be edited/expanded in the future! 

If you have any questions, don't be afraid to approach me on here or on Discord!


	2. Masterlist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Incomplete

_**Vernon Roche** _

[Fights, Fangs and Fucking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318800/chapters/56251681#workskin) \- requested by Kayrash

**_Geralt_ **

[Soup and Scars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318800/chapters/59205868) \- requested by KrissyHarley

_**Anna Henrietta** _

[Maid](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318800/chapters/56251846#workskin) \- requested by ka.Siusiek

**_Eskel_ **

[The Joy Of Meeting Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318800/chapters/58037686#workskin) \- requested by fullbouqetofwonderland

**_Lambert_ **

[Frustration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318800/chapters/60621688) \- requested by Kashalotinozean

**_Regis_ **

[The Benefits Of Alchemy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318800/chapters/58679788) \- requested by Luna Stars

**_Gaetan_ **

[An Alternative Payment](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318800/chapters/61085029) \- requested by Shadowwright

Next month:

**_Dettlaff_ **

Untitled - requested by Luna Stars

**_Yennefer_ **

Untitled - requested by Foxxy


	3. Vernon Roche | Fights, Fangs and Fucking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Kayrash
> 
> Vernon Roche joins Geralt on a contract concerning vampires.  
> When the fight proves more difficult than expected, Roche runs into a cave system to hide.  
> Enter a powerful higher vampire, who hasn't seen such a handsome mortal in a long time...
> 
> Word count: 3900+  
> Relationship: Strangers

Vernon Roche was not one to pass a challenge soon. If anyone wished to test his skill, his worth of being a commander, his dedication, he’d never bat an eye. Tonight was no different.

Roche was seated at the Temerian Partisan Hideout, leaning on a makeshift bar a few of his men had come up with. In the haphazardly created camp, it was not bad. He was enjoying a bottle of ale, though it was stale and had lost most of its flavour. Around here, there wasn’t a lot to expect from luxuries like alcohol.

Lo and behold, Geralt of Rivia had dropped by. Vernon, he wasn’t half bad to offer said witcher a drink for the road. And thus, he found himself tipsily leaning on the wooden crates that sufficed for bar, and took a large swig.

“Tell you what I think, Geralt.” he said, “Slaying monsters can’t be _that_ difficult, now can it? It’s like hunting Squirrels but less… Intelligent ones.” Though Roche had given up chasing the damn elves some time ago, mentioning them being _intelligent_ still made him slightly cringe, even though said words came from his own mouth. Geralt smiled a little behind his ale, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Imagine a person of any race, but venomous and way quicker. Sharper teeth, too. And claws, not to forget.”

“You only have to slay a monster a handful of times before you learn its weaknesses, no? Besides, you’ve got bestiaries. Non-humans and other vermin prove to be quite unpredictable. No book can actually describe their next move, or their intentions.”

Geralt scoffed, humming in discontent. He reached for his pocket, taking out a messily folded piece of paper. “Then I believe you’d see no problem in joining me on my next contract, hm?”

Vernon Roche unfolded it, reading over the details of the job. He thickly swallowed, but held his unfazed posture. A flock of lesser vampires terrorized the outskirts of Velen. Strange, since when did these beasts move up north? “Of course not. We can leave whenever you want.”

The witcher smirked, finishing off his drink before slamming it down onto the bar firmly. Vernon slightly jumped at the loud sound. “Okay. Let’s leave right now, then.”

Roche was slightly taken aback by the sudden need for departure, but he couldn’t back away now. “Sure.” he hummed, taking a small sip from the bottle. “I need to get some supplies, but then we can go.”

Geralt was patient enough to let Roche gather some equipment before patting onto his trusty steed’s back, coaxing her to wait a little longer.  
“I have no horse available.” Vernon said, hoisting a bag over his shoulder. Estimating by the darkness outside and the faint glimmer of a star here and there, it must be far past midnight.  
Geralt held out his hand for him to take.

“Come on, then. Ride with me, it’s quicker that way. You can hold that lantern, too.” Vernon looked at the lantern he had strapped to his hip, a candle flickering inside of it. Geralt didn’t need the light, but he figured Vernon would enjoy the idea of being able to see in this dark night.

The commander held onto his friend, who brought Roach into a steady gallop soon enough. Even though Velen wasn’t too close to the hideout, it should only take them a few hours to get to the location mentioned in the contract. It was close to Crow’s Perch, but Vernon did not know who the current head of town was. He had caught wind of Phillip Strenger hanging himself, leaving him wondering how the disease-ridden the _no-mans-land_ was doing.

“Lesser vampires,” Geralt mumbled, “should not prove too difficult if you carry the right amount of bombs and blade oil with you. Here,” he handed Roche a vial of a dark red liquid, “Grease your sword with this as soon as we arrive.”

“I spoke with the contract-giver, and there should be around five lesser vampires roaming about. Two-hundred gold I bargained, of which a hundred upfront. I will pay you twenty percent after this.”

The ride was long and pesky, but Geralt’s horse was fast and left Vernon Roche with just a dull ache in his thighs. He’d certainly feel that tomorrow, the commander thought, but what was that compared to the fight he was about to get into? He had to learn to not run his mouth so often. Lucky for him, the daze of the ale had already worn off.

Per Geralt’s instruction, Vernon coated his blade with the substance, handing the remainder back to the witcher. The White Wolf threw back a few potions Vernon did not know the name of – after all, Black Blood was not a commoner’s liquid – and chased away Roach. Geralt looked around with dark eyes, as if he had already sensed something in the air that any other could not hear nor smell.

“Get ready.” he growled lowly, the silver of his blade shimmering in the moonlight. “They’re creeping closer.”

The first one showed up quicker than expected and shortly left Vernon frozen in his spot, but he managed to deflect the lash aimed at him. Geralt soon intervened, slashing the head of the katakan clean off.

“Holy fuck!” The commander had to prevent himself from covering his mouth because of the stench – this was different up close. Sure, he had smelled corpses feasted on by ghouls on abandoned battlefields, maggot-filled men that had been dead for weeks, but being actually _covered_ in blood and whatnot from a monster like _this_ ; it had him startled.

A loud cry from one of the creatures pulled him to his senses again, and he parried, managing to strike the beast across its snout. It certainly showed agony from the pain the oil caused, but it did not falter for long. Roche slashed off one of the katakan’s front paws before finishing it off by stabbing it in the skull.

Geralt on the other side had already killed a few of the agitated creatures, though confusion visible in the knitting of his brow. Hardly breaking a sweat, he turned to Roche, who was having a difficult time killing a weaker one than the one before.

“It’s way more than the contract stated!”  
“How many are there?!” Roche quizzed over the sound of screams and cries.  
“At least thirty! They spread faster than-“ Geralt momentarily paused to strike a fatal blow across one of the lesser vampires.

“They’ve spread faster than I expected.”  
From the distance, a new wave was already approaching, seemingly furious about their slain kin.  
“Will we manage?”  
“Not a chance. Not with this amount of blades and oil.”

Before Roche could ask on, he was already attacked once again. He dodged the blow, but stumbled back because of it. “Geralt!” he shouted, “What will we do now?!”

“Run and hide, Roche! Into these caves! I need to make some potions and oil!” was the witcher’s answer. Vernon had no time to respond to his friend – the White Wolf had already bolted. He cursed silently between gritted teeth, cutting the lesser vampire provoking him fatally across the chest.

He ran after Geralt, finding the cave-system easily enough, but navigating them proved way more difficult. “Geralt?” he called out, his voice echoing against the walls. Soon enough, he lost all vision.

“Geralt!” he spoke up again, but there was no response from the witcher in question. Vernon padded his sides for the lantern he had brought. In his pocket were a few matches. When blinded by darkness, lighting one was no easy task, but he succeeded after breaking a couple.

The small flame illuminated the cave, revealing its size. Vernon nearly forgot that he had to hold the match against the oil-drenched wick to prevent it from disappearing. The space was way larger than he had expected and a shiver ran down his spine. “Geralt?” he called once more. Loneliness crept up on him…

…Just like something else did… A pair of dark eyes peered at him from the ceiling, shimmering in the light of the flickering flame. Roche reached for his sword, but he froze when six other pairs of eyes seemed to aim at him. That same sound he had heard moments ago while fighting vampires rang in his ears.

 _So, this is it, then?_ Vernon thought as he saw the beasts approach, appearing way larger in the ominous space. The commander grabbed his blade nevertheless, taking on a fighting stance. It would be of no use.

Three of the beasts came at him simultaneously and Vernon slashed his sword through the air, haphazardly swinging it from side to side. He hit the vampires, but only hard enough to make them stagger momentarily.

The other four katakans took their chance and lurched forward, aiming for Roche’s neck. However, when they were about to give him the fatal blow, they halted in their actions, as if thoroughly distracted from their task and unknowing of his presence.

All seven katakans shied away like a scolded dog with its tail between its legs. They scurried off as if afraid of what was lurking in the shadows. Or better said… _whom._

“What mortal goes there, dares to intrude?” A feminine voice pierced the air, clear as day. The hairs of his neck stood on end at the sound of it, fear immediately tugging at his conscience. He regained his cool posture soon enough, but the creature seemed to have already smelt it.

You approached from the shadows, eyes as dark and shimmering as the ones of the katakans had been. Your pupils were wide blown and showed no colour around them.  
“Who are you?” Roche asked, tone shivering and giving away his emotions.

“I could ask you the same, soldier.” As you spoke, Vernon could see the sharp fangs you momentarily bared. A vampire, but different. Roche frowned – a higher vampire?

“Who are you to enter my cave without any kind of invitation?” you hissed, inhaling his scent deeply. Slowly, you started to walk around him as if sizing him up, attempting to intimidate him. He was a rather delicious-looking piece of meat. It had been a while since you’ve had your fill of lust and blood.

To Vernon, it seemed as if you were floating around him, the padding of your bare feet inaudible, absent. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword, wrapping his fingers around it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Of course, as a vampire, you took quick notice of his actions.

You halted in front of him, eyes resting on his face before falling to the heavy pendant around his neck. “Ah, the Blue Stripes… Tell me, how badly do you want to return to your Temeria?”

You were toying with him, and it was working. Roche swallowed thickly whilst your gaze pierced through him. “I… I can just head out if you show me the way.”

A dissatisfied tut left your heavily painted lips. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, no mortal should disturb a higher’s rest. Didn’t they teach you that at army school?”  
For a moment, you took the metal pendant in your hand, tugging at it firmly. It came dangerously close to snapping.

“I’m the fucking commander. Of course I know about the danger surrounding monsters.”

Putting a hand on your heart, you feigned hurt. In the dim light of the lantern, you made sure that he was seeing you pull down your gown a little more, revealing more of your cleavage.

“You think me a monster? Oh, I’m thoroughly offended, sir.”

Once again, you walked around him, but now halting behind his back. You stood on your tiptoes, breathing heavily in his neck. “Good thing I’m parched.” Vernon visibly cringed at the feel of your fangs scraping against the nape of his neck. “A handsome commander’s blood should just suffice.”

Before Roche could attack, you were already gone. He stood rather awkwardly and confused with his sword in hand, looking around frantically around him. A shiver of mist soon approached, accompanied by a giggle. “Oh, _commander_.” you basically purred, “You’re not getting it, do you?”

Suddenly, the sword was flung from his grip as if it was nothing. It clattered against the wall somewhere nearby. Roche was defenceless, now…

“Stop lurking in the shadows like a coward! Show yourself if you’re going to rob me of my belongings!”

“Oh, there is no shadow for me, sir.” you replied, circling around him in a misty cloud. He nearly dropped his lantern onto the ground from fear, shivering on his feet. Vernon Roche was never afraid – except now.

“I can see all. I can smell how scared you are of me. How endearing.”  
“What do you want to do with me?!” Roche spat, “There is a witcher nearby! He will find us and kill you!”

Soon, you turned into your corporeal shell again, your (h/c) flowing over your shoulders as you stopped in front of the commander. He slightly parted his lips at the sight, not able to talk for a moment. He wanted to shake the thought off but failed: You were absolutely gorgeous. It must be a trick, he fooled himself.

“Not only do you show disrespect by trespassing, you threaten to kill me and to top it all off you throw a witcher into the mix? Very interesting, commander.” You leaned in closer, bringing your face to his.

Vernon closed his eyes at the feel of your breath on his lips, entranced at your approach. “You know nothing about higher vampires, do you?” Your lips ghosted over his chin, softly brushing his stubble.  
“You’re lucky that it’s been awhile since I’ve… Been this _intimate_ with a mortal. How about I don’t kill you… For now.”

His eyes snapped open at the suggestion but he was soon surprised by the feel of your fangs against his neck, scratching the skin slightly yet not to the point of breaking. Breath hitching in his throat, Roche braced himself against you, gripping your waist out of pure instinct.

You lightly giggled, dragging your tongue over the spot you’d damaged. “Tell me, commander. Ever done it with a _monster_ before?”

“Stop playing your games, vampire. You should be impaled with a stake through the heart.”  
“You believe I have one?” he could practically feel your smirk. “A heart, I mean.”

“Don’t think I will tolerate this behaviour!”  
“Says the man who’s got his hands on my hips.”

Vernon realized where his hands had been resting and you pulled your face from his neck, giving him an endearing smile. He gazed down at you, biting his bottom lip while deliberating. A gentle reminder about what you wanted; you pressed your hands against his chest and ground your hips forward against his groin.

The commander groaned lowly and allowed you to press your lips to his. Yours were surprisingly cold but showed passion nevertheless. He was hungry for more and let you know by pushing his tongue forward, attempting to roll it into your mouth.

 _Interesting and needy_ , you thought to yourself, smirking at the swell of his erection in his underpants. Mortals can be so easily coaxed into anything.

Vernon Roche tasted unlike any other you’d ever tasted. It caused a pool of heat to course through your abdomen and the numbing spot between your legs. His hands carded themselves through your hair, feeling each strand carefully as if it was the softest material he had ever felt. It had been so long ago since he’d touched someone like this that he couldn’t help himself.

An experienced kisser like you must’ve been with many men before, Roche shortly speculated. Your nimble fingers showed no sign of struggle with undoing the belt around his waist, letting it fall to the floor with an echoing thud. Vernon slightly jumped at the sudden noise, but you showed no such reaction.

Instead, you dragged your fangs across his throat, enough to leave marks that did not bleed, as if a cat had scratched him. They stung a little, spurred on by cold air. “Is this what you want, commander?” you purred, voice not louder than a whisper. Roche opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly you evaporated into mist right in his hands.

You circled him, starting around his ankles, all the way to his face. “Tell me…” you whispered in his ear from behind, causing him to confusedly look around. “Oh, your body tells me enough. And your heartbeat…”

As if there was magic involved, Roche’s trousers became undone. Invisible hands tugged it down to his ankles and he was unable to respond properly. Ashamed, he closed his eyes when his erection popped from his underwear, throbbing and swollen with need.

“What a sight.” you sincerely murmured, sneaking your hands around his armour to push it off his shoulders. Roche was entranced by the feel of you so effortlessly unclothing him, clouding him completely. He shivered from the cold hitting his skin, and when you reappeared in your tangible shell, it only intensified. You were stark naked, your body unlike any he had ever seen.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a man so handsome.” you mused, sinking to your knees. Experienced, quick and nimble fingers wrapped around the hilt of his cock, testing the waters. Roche groaned, almost too overwhelmed to be able to stand on his legs. He kept his ground and simply watched when your dark red lips wrapped around his tip.

You always enjoyed the flavour of human sperm on your tongue, giving it an extra swirl around his foreskin before pulling it back around the sensitive circle around his shaft. An extra treat; not better than blood, but just as enticing.

He slipped further into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. You didn’t gag, looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, his face a blur through your lashes. He was thoroughly liking this, you noticed in his composure.

Vernon bit his lip, deliberating whether it would be appropriate to put a hand in your hair. He decided against it, putting it to his side instead, figuring you a creature that liked to be in charge. Never before had he felt a mouth so soft and refined, yet so demanding.

He gritted his teeth, hissing when you mouthed the sensitive spot under his head, making it tremble against your bottom lip. A small laugh left your lips, but Roche couldn’t figure out if it was meant as playful or mocking.

“You… You’re pretty.” he said within grunts.  
Momentarily, you paused your lapping at his cock to laugh.  
“A man gets blown by a total stranger and all he can say is that she’s pretty.”

You stood up, releasing the weight of his erection to put your hand against his chest instead.  
A hungry kiss, animalistic, needy. Vernon dared to put a hand behind your neck to pull you closer. When your teeth clashed together, you pulled back, frowning with a smirk forming at the corner of your mouth. “You’re amusing, commander.”

“Roche.”  
“Huh?”  
“Roche. My name.”  
“Oh. _Roche_. As in… Cockroach?”

Vernon scoffed humourlessly. “My friend has a horse named Roach. Same pronunciation. Different spelling though.”

Long fingers rested at the nape of his neck where you put your hand. For a second, you scraped your nails against the scruff where his stubble began.

“Enough trivial talk.” you whispered. “Roche.”

You looked as if you were hovering over the cold floor when you slipped past him, leaning against the wall with your hands. You bent forward slightly, looking over your shoulder at him. “Down to business, no?”

You allowed him to rest his hand on your hip, his fingers soon exploring the (s/c) skin of your flesh. His gaze halted at your core, dripping with need. “You haven’t told me your name.” he replied, moving to stand behind you. In a complete state of trance, he guided himself inside of you, slipping past your folds without a lot of effort.

Biting your bottom lip, you breathed out a moan. “Oh, that doesn’t matter. Just feel nice inside me, alright?” You didn’t have to repeat yourself, your simple request spurring the commander on to start fucking you. Though his thrusts were slow, testing out your depths, you enjoyed the girth of his cock moving in and out of you.

When he found a steady rhythm of his hips, Vernon Roche tried maintaining the pace, earning a few moans from you. You braced yourself against the wall, throwing back your head in enjoyment. Judging by his movements and the way he twitched inside of you, it was clear that he hadn’t gotten action in a long time.

It was wrong to blame him for it – you were just as touch-starved. It had been ages since an attractive human had dared set foot near your hideout, let alone cross paths with you. And thus, you found yourself joining in his movements, rolling against him to the point his skin slapped yours with every thrust.

“Make sure your witcher friend won’t notice us!” you teased. “What would he think of walking into us like this? Seeing you balls deep in a higher vampire.” You had to prevent yourself from bursting out into laughter. “Oh, you’re twitching… Are you close, commander?”

His cock once again throbbed inside of you and you moved your hand between your thighs to stimulate your clitoris. “What a man you’d be if you wouldn’t let me cum first, huh?’ you taunted, soon chasing after your high. Roche’s grip on your ass tightened whilst he quickened the speed of his stuttering hips. Your cunt clenched around him, drawing him closer, _closer, closer_ …

And then he burst inside of you, stilling in his movements, eyes snapped shut. A groan escaped his throat, one that had been building deep inside his lungs ever since the build of his release. Your orgasm was quieter. Why would you give him the satisfaction? You’d seen what such pride could do to mortal men… It was a nice pulsating of your clit accompanied by the heat of his cock still buried deep inside of you.

Roche sighed, sweat trickling down his brow. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, removing himself from your heat. Seed trickled down your thighs. The air was immediately colder again. Perhaps it was the sweat on his body cooling off, Roche thought.

And as to where your clothes had so quickly disappeared, so quickly they had returned to your form. You moved over to the commander, who was still standing with everything out for all to see. You leaned in and kissed him chastely on the lips, smiling while pulling back.

“Thank you, commander Roche. Tell your witcher friend I said hi.”

Before he could ask what you meant, he heard footsteps around the corner.  
“Roche? I've slayed the remaining vampires! Roche?!” Geralt’s raspy voice sounded, out of breath though concerned.

With a giggle, you moved away from the commander, your final question to him a whisper.  
“Will you come to visit me again one day?”

You blew him a kiss, and he didn’t get the chance to reply, because you had disappeared before he knew it.

“There you… What the fuck?”

Geralt shielded his face from the naked commander, who was hastily looking for his undergarments.  
Getting lost in a cave system and then being found in the nude like that, smelling of sex?  
Vernon Roche definitely had some explaining to do, over a cup of cheap wine on their way back to receive the contract’s pay.


	4. Anna Henrietta | Maid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by ka.Siusiek
> 
> You catch an accidental glimpse of the duchess pleasuring herself.  
> She catches a glimpse of you pleasuring yourself.  
> Months of pining and flirting come to a wonderful climax... Literally.
> 
> Word count: 3700+  
> Relationship: Employer/Employee

If you wanted to keep your job, you knew you really, _really_ had to stop staring. But it was difficult not to do so, with Anna Henrietta’s delicate neck so out in the open for you to see…  
Your adams apple bobbed when you swallowed thickly at the sight of the jewels adorning her neckline, resting on her collarbone.

“…And thus I must implore you all, you really have to put some more effort in those rooms and so it will all be in order.” Duchess Anna Henrietta concluded her speech to you and the other maids. “Am I clear?”

She looked at you with a puzzled expression. Your gaze was piercing and made her inexplicably flustered. “(Y/n)?” she said your name.

Upon the sound of it you snapped out of your daydream, looking at her confused. “Oh, huh? I mean of course, my Lady.” You straightened your back and tried regaining your composure. You really shouldn’t continue adoring her like that. Countless times you had told yourself that it would never happen. Not only was it unprofessional, she was the duchess for fuck’s sake, but you didn’t even think she was into women – she had been married to man. It would never happen, and you had to quit your daydreaming and fantasizing about the lady so much higher than you… At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Then you’re dismissed. (Y/n), can I have a word with you?” Anarietta saw your slight shock when she called your name. You felt your cheeks slightly heat up whilst the others retreated to the maid’s dorms. It was evening after all, plenty time to relax.

“You haven’t been yourself lately. You’ve been zoning out, just staring and unresponsive… Tell me, is there something on your mind? Since you are my personal maid, I want to be sure of your wellbeing.”

It was a sweet gesture and if it had been any other situation bothering you, you would’ve poured your heart out to her. The gentle brush of her hand against your shoulder had you almost want to faint. It was warm through the cotton of your shirt and you cast your gaze downward.  
“It’s nothing, my Lady. It’s just ah… Hormonal, I think. Change of the weather sometimes messes that up.”

Her fingers gently stroked your cheek and tapped your chin so you would look up at her. “Then I suggest you should take better care of yourself. Why don’t you come have a cup of tea with me in half an hour, in my bedroom? Tea always soothes the mind and body. If you’d like, I could let my royal doctor look at you if you keep having symptoms. How does that sound?”

You gently bowed. “That sounds lovely, my Lady. Thank you.”  
“You are dismissed, and I will see you in thirty minutes.”

With a quick glance, you left her be. To any other onlooker it would’ve been an odd request – the duchess inviting her personal maid over for a cup of tea - in her bedroom no less – but all the guards around Toussaint knew better. You were friends, so they batted no eye when they saw you roaming about the royal halls in your apron at the weirdest of times, a tray of tea in hand.

Even more reason to keep your feelings hidden. It would not only ruin your career, but also your friendship. Well, friendship at a respectable distance at that. After all, she was still the duchess, and you were her maid.

In the bathrooms, you fixed yourself in the mirror. Not that it would matter of course, but you pushed some hair behind your ears and washed your face. Keeping a close eye on the time, you left the dorms exactly the right time to arrive after thirty minutes sharp.

The guards let you in without any trouble. You wiped your clammy hands on your skirt. Despite having worked for the court for years, ever since you had started having feelings for the duchess, you had been a bit nervous when going to see her. And you tried your damnedest not to let anyone know.

However, odd noises from her bedroom startled you. Seeing no guards around, you let curiosity taking the better of you. For a moment you panicked. She wasn’t in trouble, was she? You pressed your ear against the wood of her door.

Now the sounds were more clear, they dusted your ears brightly red and soaked your panties almost immediately – the duchess was _moaning_ … You pressed your thighs together and felt your breathing become ragged. You swallowed a few times thickly, not sure of what to do. Would you retreat silently? Guards would spot your departure and go check on her, assuming the _tea party_ was over. 

You could knock before going in. Deciding it would be the best option, you held your hand in the air, about to rap your fingers on the door, but then you saw it was already open… You bit your bottom lip, deliberating if it was the moral thing to do, and even though it wasn’t, you let your desire become the better of you. Pushing open the door just slightly, you found the perfect angle to peek in.

Now you had seen the duchess naked before whenever she bathed and required your assistance, even touched her nude body while scrubbing her with lavender soap. But this, _this_ was different. A thin sheen of sweat covered her milky skin, her body writhing under the touch of her own fingers. It was rubbing between her legs, pumping some fingers in and out, it was enticing to say the least. Your face heated up at the sight and you had to resist the urge to moan in delight. Yes, this was quite the sight.

You unconsciously had started to rub your thighs together to relief some of the straining that had started to grow in between. Upon feeling your clit brush the fabric of your panties in a certain way, you softly gasped, quiet enough for the duchess to not notice.

For a second, you looked around to see if you were still alone. Carefully, you bent down to hoist up the skirt of your dress, making you able to reach for your cunt. You were wetter than ever before. Slowly, you started to play with yourself, trying to match the rhythm Anna Henrietta was using.

The sheer sight of her made you want to moan out as she twitched under her own touch. She was gorgeous and hot and looked like a goddess. Her eyes were snapped shut, strawberry blonde hair scattered all over her rich duvet. She had to be close, hearing her breaths.

Your fingers circled your clit and your knees felt weak. Desperately trying to grab onto something steady, you tried bracing yourself against the door. But since it wasn’t closed, it opened only more, the hinges creaking.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Anna Henrietta looked up in shock, body quivering from being so close to orgasm. And you were fruitlessly trying to remove your hand from your underwear. After a second you were able to, but you were still quite a mess. Your cheeks were cherry red, your skirt was still askew and on your hips, but worst of all, your hand was a slick mess. You hid it behind your back, but it was too late.

“(Y/n)?” the duchess’ voice sounded, questioning your sudden presence.  
“My Lady, I… I can…”  
“Hm?”

Anna Henrietta arose from her laying position, standing up to walk towards you. You tried your best not to look at her naked form. She looked at you with an amused look on her face.

“You may approach.” she said, smiling softly. Carefully, you stepped forwards inside the bedroom, closing the door behind you. Your eyes rested on the floor, not daring to look up at her.

“You didn’t seem to have any trouble staring at me a few seconds ago… Why are you so shy now?”

Her question hinted at a subtle tease, but perhaps it was just wishful thinking…  
“Lady duchess, I can explain, I—”  
“I did not ask for your excuses now did I? Look at me when I speak to you.”

Hesitantly, you looked at the woman in front of you, trying your damnedest not to let your gaze trail to the swell of her breasts. “Tell me, (Y/n)…” she began, “How wet are you right now?”

You were taken aback by the vulgar question, freezing when she approached you.  
“I—I… I…” you tried to reply to her that it was a mistake, that you should be on your way and would understand it if she would fire you. When she brought up her hand, you flinched, afraid that she might strike you…

…But instead, she tucked some (h/c) hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched at the feather light touch, in trance at how soft her palm was as it rested against your cheek. “I asked you something.”  
Anarietta demanded an answer from you.

“Very wet, Lady duchess.” she smiled, tilting her head slightly.  
“Have you slept with women before, then?”  
You nodded a little. “Yes, Lady duchess.”  
“Are you any good at it?”

For a few seconds, you blinked at her. “Beg your pardon, Lady duchess?”  
“Are you any good at making a woman… How to put it? Have an orgasm?”  
“I believe so, Lady duchess.” you confided in your own skill.

Her pink lips curved upwards in a smile and the bottom one slipped in between her teeth soon thereafter. “Interesting. You know I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be with another woman. Given I have just noticed you seemingly turned on by my behaviour, I’d like to make you a proposition.”

Your heart started to pound in your throat and you swallowed thickly, hardly daring to keep her gaze. She held your stare, however. “What is it, Lady duchess?”

She laughed lightly. “Oh (Y/n), please stop with those formal words. I will put this plain and simple; eat me out.”

“What?” you were lost for words at the unexpected and totally bold statement.

“You heard me right. I want you to orally satisfy me. If you succeed at it, I might just return the favour.” A cheeky grin came over her face and you stood there totally dumbfounded for a few moments, trying to wrap your head around her question.

“But Lady duchess, I—”  
“Anarietta is fine, (Y/n).”  
“Anarietta, I don’t think it’s appropriate to do such things to each other! I mean, you’re the duchess and I am a mere servant.”

She replied by pressing a velvety soft kiss onto your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. She tasted of cherries and Sangreal – though your tongue had never been blessed with the expensive wine before, you figured that it must taste like _this…_ Heavenly.

You slowly started to move into the kiss, deepening it, daring to add some tongue. The duchess seemed to get into it as well, a pleasant hum leaving her throat. You felt the previous excitement sear through your body again, waiting to be satisfied.

“My Lady,” you breathed after pulling back, forgetting what she previously told you, “Let me obey to your wishes.” She smiled at you, watching closely when you undid your dress, letting it pool around your ankles. It wasn’t long until you were as nude as she was, shivering a little from the cold night air.

For a few moments, you were entangled in another passionate lip-lock. “I’ve seen you ogle me, you little vixen.” Anna Henrietta purred when you started sucking on her neck, downward to take one of her nipples into your mouth. It was lovely and you let your tongue slide careful slow circles around it.

The duchess was already loving it, tangling one hand in your hair. She threw back her head, softly moaning at your lips caressing and sucking her breasts. Her skin tasted sweet and you caught a whiff of her flowery perfume. For a second, you pulled back to playfully squeeze them before burying your face in her bosom altogether. Anna Henrietta let out a light laugh before she deeply sighed, biting her lip. “(Y/n)… You’re being so naughty…”

You smiled, moving your face towards her neck. You sucked her skin towards her ear, whispering something even naughtier: “There is more where that comes from… My Lady.”

Her cheeks flushed when you slowly coaxed her towards the large plush bed standing amidst the room, where she had been laying previously. She crawled back towards the rich cushions, with you following her quickly. You kissed her again, daring to make the move.

A gasp left Anna’s lips when she felt your hand press apart her thighs, revealing the blossoming moist labia which had been exposed to you before. She was still wet, if not more turned on, and you looked at her whilst starting to toy with her flower. Anna Henrietta softly moaned, grabbing your wrist as if she was having second thoughts, or guiding you further…

“Are you sure you want this, Anarietta?” you murmured in her hair. The movement of her hips against your fingers said enough, “Yes,” she breathed, “Please…”

And so you dug in, fingers parting her folds, gathering some of her juices. For a few moments, you toyed around, teasing at her engorged clit by circling it. Her pussy was pink and warm when you slipped in a finger and she moaned.

“Oh, it has been so long since I’ve been touched like that…” she moaned, “Hm, that’s nice.”

You began pumping your fingers in and out, shifting so you could use both hands. The other rested on her breast for a moment before going to rub at her clitoris. Lewd sounds of sloppy fingering and soft moans filled the bedroom. You just hoped that guards wouldn’t become nosy to check on what was happening.

“Goodness…” Anna Henrietta sighed, her walls clamping around your digits after a good minute of touching her. “I think I am close already.” Long riled up and touch-starved, the duchess shivered under your merciless hand. You expertly handled the bundle of nerves between her folds with great care.

“Stop… (Y/n), stop…” She fled from your spurring-on fingers, forcing you to pull them out. They were slick and you immediately put them in your mouth. “Put your lips on me.” she demanded, making you realize that _that_ was the reason she didn’t want to cum just yet.

What was appropriate and what was not? You hesitantly looked up at her whilst moving your head to rest between her legs. The scent of her flower was delicious, and even though you had tasted pussy before (lonely maids in the servant’s quarters get bored at times), Anna Henrietta’s smelled like you’d never known before.

One lap of your tongue, and another one. Looking at her reaction, trying to figure out if she liked it or not… But when she pressed her cunt into your face for more, you dared carry on. She had wished for you to eat her out after all, and she tasted amazing.

Wrapping your lips around her labia, you gave a long, noisy suck. The duchess could barely comprehend what she was feeling, letting out a surprised gasp. Had she known you were so skilled with your mouth, well… She should’ve asked you sooner.

One of her hands, that had been resting on her breasts, now reached for your hair, pressing you tighter against her. You sharply inhaled through your nose whilst licking across her folds, drinking in her essence, just teasing at the swell of her clit. The light hair that grew on her pelvis tickled your face slightly, causing you to smile.

“You taste wonderful, Anarietta.” you murmured against her heated flesh, pulling back for some air and to toy with her cunt. You pressed your fingers inside of her again, now curling up to make the come-hither motion. When you started stimulating the sensitive spongy area, Anarietta almost lost it.

Her moans were so loud that you hoped that no one would be alerted and barge in. She sounded as if she wanted to be heard around the entire palace, and it filled you with a sense of pride. You started licking at her clitoris all while pumping your fingers, coaxing her ever closer to a mind-shattering high.

Anna Henrietta writhed, playing with the plump flesh of her breasts. Her legs wrapped around your neck, forcing your face closer to her. You put a hand on her thigh, taking a bit more control again. The way her body moved against your face was maddening and she was about to burst.

You kept fingering an eating her whilst she moaned your name, legs quivering with pleasure. “Oh, (Y/n), just like that… Ooh!”

Without any kind of warning, she came undone, unravelling against your tongue. A wave of juices filled your mouth, produced by her orgasm. Her clit pulsated and you massaged it. She kept riding your tongue until her full high was over, her body covered in goosebumps and an overall quivering mess. You looked at her silently.

Pulling away from her satisfied cunt, you basked in the sight of her quivering form. She was absolutely gorgeous, her hair sprawled wildly over the pillows, eyes shut as she tried catching her breath.

“That was… Magnificent.” she murmured after a few seconds of pleasant silence. “Can you come here and kiss me?” You did as she asked of you, crawling over her, ignoring the faint throb between your legs.

“How about you now, (Y/n)?” Anarietta asked. You smiled faintly and pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead, letting her cuddle into you.

“It doesn’t matter, my Lady.”  
“Of course it does! Can I…” she bit her bottom lip, unsure of how to express herself. “Can I touch you?”

It was odd hearing such a question from someone who was basically your mistress. You had to obey her commands and wishes, not vice versa. Hearing her ask for your consent and thoughts had another wave of confidence surge through you, for this proved that she respected your boundaries.

You responded by kissing her, grabbing her chin lightly to tilt her face up to yours. “Of course, Anarietta…” you sighed against her rosy lips. “You can do anything you want to me.”

Her cheeks flushed and she was suddenly a little shy. “Well,” she began, “Perhaps I shouldn’t put my mouth on you yet… But I’d like to feel… To feel around your…”

You understood what she meant and gave her another sweet kiss. “Of course. I’d like that.”

Her lips were slightly askew in concentration when she reached down, hoisting your maid’s skirt up above your hips. With a bit of help, your underwear was now exposed to her. In any other situation you would’ve been embarrassed by the wet spot visible through your panties, but now it only spurred the duchess on.

Her fingers were soft as they slid across the rosy folds, unfamiliar with the feel of another woman. Anna Henrietta bit her bottom lip, focusing on how warm and wet you were. You relished in the feeling of her digits exploring your flesh, sighing when she found the swell of your clitoris.

“It’s different from touching myself.” the duchess said. You let out a small laugh and nodded.  
“That it is, my Lady.”  
She gave an amused huff of a laugh. “I’m about to finger you and you call me _my Lady_. You’re such an interesting servant, (Y/n).”

A servant… Perhaps that would be all you’d ever be. But if you had the perk of sharing a bed with Anna Henrietta occasionally, you wouldn’t complain. After all, you hoped this encounter wasn’t a one-time-thing. You already imagined sneaking out of the maid’s dorms at night, passing guards to find her, and all the things you’d do to her while she—

Her nimble finger suddenly slipped inside of you and you couldn’t help but moan. For someone who hadn’t fingered a woman before, she knew exactly where to touch you. The idea that she had done this to herself quite a few times made you smirk in anticipation.

She started moving it in and out, and soon it was so wet that she make absolutely no effort to pump it, and so she added an extra finger. You keened.

“You’re quite good at this if I may say so, Anarietta…” you sighed, bucking your hips upwards into her touch. She smiled, daring to press a kiss to your neck.  
“Thank you.” she replied, adding a third finger. You threw back your head, enjoying the burn of the stretch.

She adjusted her hand, making her thumb brush your clit. A drawn-out moan left your lips and you fondled your own breasts. Anna looked at them lustfully.  
“Hm?” you quizzed, offering one of your nipples to her. Experimentally, she started sucking down on it, soon realizing how much she liked it, and intensifying her actions.

Of course, after being worked up already for so long and the surprising skill of the duchess, your climax was soon nearing. Anna Henrietta smiled at you against the flesh of your breast, nuzzling her face against it. “Are you near? You’re clenching around me, that must be a good sign.”

A soft moan was all she got as an answer, for you didn’t trust your voice. You lifted your hips from the bed, rutting into her touch. After a few seconds, you were pushed over the edge, orgasming harder than you ever had. “Oh, my Lady…” you cried out, “Fuck!”

For a moment you were afraid that someone might burst in, but the guards around here weren’t _that_ dumb, right? Your body trembled, coming down from that delicious high.  
Anna Henrietta licked her fingers clean, trying out your flavour. You hoped she liked it, and her expression said enough. Soon, she would want to eat you out, you were sure of it.

The duchess pressed a chaste kiss onto your lips, calming you down.  
When your breathing became steady again, you deepened the kiss.

“Anna…” you murmured against her lips. She looked at you through half-lidded eyes, humming.  
“I had been wanting you for so long… Please, _please_ tell me that this isn’t just a one-time thing?”

She smiled at you, moving to rest her head against your plump breasts.  
“I hope not.” she replied, “Frankly, I sincerely wish that this is just getting started.”

A fond smile spread over your lips, your heart warming at the confession.  
“Of course, my Lady,” you said, basking in the softness of her hair against your skin.


	5. Eskel | The Joy Of Meeting Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by fullboquetofwonderland
> 
> After being away for a long time, you return to Kaer Morhen to seek out your lover of yore.   
> Eskel is not keen on letting you get away again any time soon.
> 
> Word count: 3600+  
> Relationship: Lovers

The dull ache caused by loss of yore was ever present in Eskel’s heart. Whereas Lambert would often laugh at him and Geralt would tell him not to worry too much about it, the witcher in question would often spend his nights thinking about nothing and nobody else.

Plenty of fish in the sea, Geralt would say, for who could be certain that _you_ were still alive? For all they knew, you were already six feet down under, eating dirt for months. Not one letter had Eskel received from your hand, nor a sign of life. He knew no love until he had met you and then he realized that he had found faith in the myth that people often called soulmates, and he was surprised that things like these could actually reach a mere mutant like himself.

Why would you return anyways, if you survived the dangerous trip to Nilfgaard, called by duty to stitch up the wounds of the injured? Eskel never was one to mind what others thought of him, but being at your side had changed his views on himself. You’d tell him otherwise many occasions that you thought of him as the greatest man you had ever met; still Lamberts vile words had struck painful nerves, even though he’d never admit it. Perhaps the salty witcher was right, Eskel sometimes overthought. For you were a wonderful woman, after all. And what was he but a witcher?

You’d left for your medicinal duties when the war broke out, and the weeks turned into months and eventually to years, until he lost track of how long exactly you’d been gone. When winter came he settled back into Kaer Morhen, awaiting the passage of snow and ice, hanging up his swords at least until spring. It was a boring time, even though Vesemir often pressed on how they could spend their time patching up the place (which they occasionally did), and refreshing their minds with the basics of bestiaries.

A little bit more education never hurt a soul, Vesemir had said, and even though Geralt had immediately countered that some minds became corrupt with a hunger for knowledge, Eskel had actually taken up on the offer and found himself near the fire with a large, dusty book in hand. It hadn’t been touched in years, perhaps decades, since he noticed a slight yellowing of the pages and several bugs piling up between the crevices.

From the other side of the room, he saw Lambert approaching. Shifting in his position, Eskel straightened his back, relieving himself from the painful strain on his spine that all the sitting had caused.

“Did you know that nekkers actually—”  
“I don’t need to know that, Vesemir Junior.” Lambert snapped, sitting down opposite of the other witcher, a bottle of beer in hand. Eskel opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but in the end, it was always the same with Lambert.

  
With a sigh, Eskel returned his gaze to the book, trying to focus on the words again. However, it was quite difficult when Lambert took annoyingly loud sips from his drink.   
“Could you stop doing that? You’re being childish.”  
“What are you going to do? Tell Vesemir?”  
Eskel tried his best to ignore the man he occasionally deemed friend and then foe, but it was to no use.

“What about that woman you liked. (Y/n), huh. Received any letters? Are you sure she hasn’t ran off with one of those handsome human soldiers yet?”  
“Shut up.”   
“Oh, don’t like me asking?”   
“I said, shut up, before I shove that bottle so far up your ass you’ll be shitting glass shards for the rest of winter.”

Lambert put up his hands defensively, as if he hadn’t said a single harmful word.   
“I was just trying to have some small-talk, since we’re holed up in here together for at least three more months, right!”

“If you want these weeks to be any pleasant, you better shut the fuck up and get out of here! And don’t you dare speak (Y/n)’s name ever again, your piece of absolute shit!” Eskels words left him unfazed, though. He smirked, standing up, making sure the legs of his chair scraped _loudly_ against the tiles of the room, and walked backwards, maintaining eye contact with the witcher he’d taunted. “Okay, fine. You’re no fun, anyways.”

Only when Lambert closed the door behind him and was gone once and for all, Eskel returned to his reading. But after this little spat, he was unable to focus again. His mind wandered to you instead, reminiscing about all the time you had together before you had to get away into that bloody war.

Eskel knew you had a good heart and wished for nothing more but for you to be happy with what you do. It had always been your wish to become a nurse and there you were, surrounded by violence and misery, away from the witcher whom held you dear. He had often let the question linger on the tip of his tongue, never finding the courage to actually speak it out loud.

He wished that he had, though. Seeing you leave had left him more at conflict than he’d ever been.

Despite Eskel being lost in his own mind, outside of Kaer Morhen it was much more lively. It was a certain ashen-haired woman accompanied by a violet-eyed sorceress, talking about whatever kept them busy – Ciri was in one of her happier moods and talked Yennefer’s ear off about… Slugs? Yennefer rubbed her forehead, wanting Ciri to just stop talking for a few minutes on one hand, but on the other, she was glad that said Lady of Space and Time was _actually there_.

But among Ciri’s rambling, another sound approached, inching ever nearer albeit slowly. The unfamiliar padding of a horse’s hoof – it wasn’t Roach, for Geralt’s noble steed was right below munching on some well-deserved hay in the stable – a pattern not known by the raven-haired woman. She put up a gloved hand, Ciri becoming silent at the gesture.

“Who’s there?” Yennefer spoke up, loud and clear, attempting to intimidate whomever was disturbing their peaceful conversation.

“It’s me!” the voice answered, Yennefer immediately recognizing the owner of it. She rushed towards the gate, Ciri hot on her heels.

“(Y/n)!” Ciri exclaimed happily, relieved as she saw you dismount a horse that you had gotten from one of your comrades, exhaustion visible on your face.

You took your time to embrace your friends – not only had you missed them dearly, but you craved some warmth as well. The last few years had been anything but nice and the war was far from over, but you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You must be starving!” Yennefer said, “And you’re freezing cold! Come on, let’s head inside!”

Ciri took your horse to stable it and you went with Yen, breathing into your freezing hands in an attempt to warm them up. The halls of Kaer Morhen were familiar and you were certain that the room you shared with Eskel would look exactly the same as right before you left. _Oh, Eskel_ … You wanted to see him first, before doing anything else.

“Have you seen Eskel?” you asked Yennefer, who gestured in his direction.   
“Of course. You will find him a little away.”

Even though your legs were tired, you rushed towards the place Yennefer had pointed you. And there you found your favourite witcher, his cat-like eyes glued to a book.

“Eskel.” you spoke, causing said man to look up.

First his expression went to confused. Then to surprised, and finally, relieved.

“(Y/n)?!” He practically threw away his book, jumping from his seat to run towards you. The hug he enveloped you in was bone-crushing and filled with unspoken emotion. He had missed you, that was clear as day. You deeply inhaled, fondly burying your face in his chest, smiling at his scent.

No words were spoken for a few minutes. You just stood there, in the middle of the room in each other’s embrace. It was Eskel who first spoke up, his voice soft and warm just like you remembered it.  
“I can’t believe you’re here.” he muttered, pulling back so he could look at your face. He cupped it into his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks sweetly.

“Neither can I, honestly.” you replied. Eskel noticed the fatigue on your face, your eyes sunken by the lack of sleep and the exposure to war. But you were _beautiful_ to him. You always had been, and you still were. He wasn’t afraid of what could be underneath your clothes, what new scars and signs would be adorned on your skin, memoirs of bloodshed and anguish. No, he wished to see you again, and tell you how beautiful you were.

You were the one to imply the first kiss, the one that you had been fantasizing over and over again during lonely nights. It came with much more emotion than you had expected, though. His mouth gently moved over yours, the familiar scar on his lip causing you to melt deeper into the moment. Eskel’s hands went to your neck, fingers tangling in your (h/c) locks whilst his tongue entangled with yours. Oh, this was way more lovely than you could’ve ever dreamt of.

But then, after all, no one has the ability to truly read minds unless involved in dark magic. You had no knowledge of what ran through Eskel’s mind and a wave of uncertainty hit you – the years on the field had left their marks on your body – what would he think of it?

Eskel pulled back the same moment he tasted salt in the kiss – looking at you he noticed you were crying. The first instinct to wipe them away was quickly pushed out of the window, letting you cry if you felt it as necessary. He didn’t want to give you the feeling that you weren’t allowed to cry – he’d hear every story you wanted to tell him willingly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with a shiver in his voice, hating to see you in so much despair. He could see the pain in your (e/c) irises, your expression containing volumes at least. You rubbed your sleeves over your stained cheeks, hoping to remove whatever traces were left. A pitiful sniffle. Then you spoke up:

“Eskel, I am not the same woman I once was. It’s not a pretty sight…”   
“Oh, my love.” he said, reassuringly sweet. “Don’t say such things about yourself. I am more than certain that nothing in this world can change who you are to me.”

He picked you up without any effort – he never had trouble carrying you – and headed towards your once shared room. You were vaguely aware that Yennefer would probably already have something prepared to eat for you, but food was the last thing on your mind right now.

The only thing being able to hold your focus was the witcher holding you, each step he took adding up to the deep desire burning within your loins, since it had been so long since you had shared a bed – too long, you knew.

After arriving in the room where Eskel resided, he kicked the door shut, putting you onto the floor carefully. He hungrily kissed you, tongues dancing with each other in a heated battle.  
You wasted no time ridding each other of all items of clothing – seasons of being apart had made you touch-starved and longing for skin-on-skin contact.

Eskel noticed your sudden hesitation; you had stepped back and covered yourself with your arms, as if ashamed of what was underneath. Even though his large hands felt heavenly on your bare skin, you shied away when he reached for you, his arms awkwardly falling to his sides. He opened his mouth to speak but instead chose to look at you, studying the expression that had grown on your face.

“It’s… The scars, Eskel…” you whimpered, barely suppressing a sob.

“(Y/n), my dear. You will always look beautiful to me. Marks or no marks. You forget that I am a witcher and quite covered in such defects as well.”

You sniffled before straightening your back, hesitantly removing your forearms from your body. Across your chest, evidence of what once was a gaping wound, haphazardly stitched and plagued by infection numerous times. It had healed, albeit barely. Eskel almost instinctively flinched but withheld himself; he knew it wouldn’t add up to your confidence.

“That must have hurt quite a lot.” he stated matter-of-factly. You nodded and inhaled deeply through your nose, letting a nervous breath escape.

“There was an enemy soldier.” you began, “And I was only turning around after pouring a bucket full of bile down the river. It was stupid of me to be so careless, really. I… I nearly died, if it weren’t for one of the nurses to take care of me, most competent.”

“I am thankful for them that you’re here. You look beautiful, (Y/n).” Eskel leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before moving down, brushing his lips against the sore skin. You shivered at the feeling, though unable to put a label on it. Was it pleasant, or did it leave you wishing to push him off? You had often kissed his scars as well, and you wondered how _he_ had always experienced said affection.

The witcher pressed his face between your breasts now, warm and nice and familiar. He looked up and you and you laughed lightly, dragging your hands through his hair. He took one of your nipples onto his mouth, starting to suckle on it like he had done plenty times before. It was nice and made you murmur his name after a few minutes of him caressing your breasts.

Of course you had noticed the swell of his cock down below, your eyes momentarily resting on said erect length. You bit your lip at the sight, remembering the well-known curve and the several veins that ran across it, as well as the slight purplish hue of the swollen head. It had been able to make you feel incredible in the past – it could only be better now.

“Oh, my love.” Eskel breathed against your nipple, “I want to be inside of you. Feel your warmth around me. Is that okay?”

_You wouldn’t want anything else._ After you told him that, he scooped you up with such care that you wanted to cry again. Not from discomfort, but out of love. The blanket on his bed was slightly rough against your bare skin, but you didn’t mind. It was conversant and soft enough; after all, with Eskel looming above you, you wouldn’t dare complain about _anything_ tonight, and nothing could ruin it.

It didn’t take long for the witcher to connect his lips with yours again, hand moving in between your thighs. He momentarily played with the soft petals of your flower, making you moan into his mouth. After so long of being apart from his touch, each caress made you wonder if you’d unexpectedly cum at an instant.

“So wet and hot…” Eskel murmured, kissing you softly as he found your soaking hole, testing your arousal by slipping a finger inside. It immediately clenched around the digit and made him withdraw it at once. You whimpered though not for long; he already pressed the silk of his cock against your folds, bringing himself inside with a swift motion.

It never failed to draw a gasp from you – though you two had been one many times before, he always filled you up so nicely… Eskel kissed you feverishly, wasting no time rolling his pelvis against your hips.

With experienced movements, he pounded into you, making you moan and shiver underneath him. Your body was smaller than his, covered by him completely. You just basked in his presence and enjoyed the feeling of being fully surrounded by him.

Eskel kept a steady pace, groaning and focusing hard on the way you were reacting. By the way your face twisted in pleasure, he knew he was doing something quite right. Of course he knew; he knew _exactly_ what you liked and what would make you sing his name.

You just felt so _delicious_ around him, clenching your walls around him as if afraid he’d pull out. Oh, he would never want to part from your cunt…

And between your sweaty bodies moving together _just right_ , you found your high and chased after it. It had been too long and too dreadful to draw it out any longer – you wanted to clamp down around him and cum uncontrollably.

“Oh, Eskel!” you moaned, resting your hands against the curve where neck and shoulder meet, holding onto him for dear life. “I want to cum. Can I cum?”

The witcher above you didn’t respond – verbally at least – for at that same moment you felt him fill you up with his spend, wholly pressing it into you by continuously rocking into you.   
Your body trembled with your release, your orgasm crashing over you whilst Eskel was able to keep that same speed, moving until he was sure you were fully relieved.

Before he could pull out of you, you wrapped your legs around his hips.   
“Eskel…” you whispered, “Can you hold me for a little longer?”  
“I wasn’t planning on releasing you any time soon, my love.”

Still, he slipped out of you, wanting to prevent the discomfort if he did it later.  
You nuzzled into his side. For a few minutes, you lazily kissed each other, countless marks soon adorning your neck.

Eskel gripped your thighs, flipping you over so you were laying under him once again. He momentarily graced himself with feeling your breasts again, muttering a sweet praise into the skin. His mouth soon moved downward, setting against your pelvis, your knees finding their way over his shoulders.

Hot breath fanned over your seeping cunt, the mixture of your juices quickly cooled by the exposure to air. The witcher did not mind burying his tongue into you and thus did not waste any time by doing so, drawing another sound of pleasure from you. You cupped your breasts in your hands, squeezing them firmly to relieve some of that ever building pressure; Eskel wholly relished in the scent and feel of eating you open.

A steady roll of his finger over your clit had you see stars. You didn’t have the time to come down from your first climax yet, so your second one was nearing soon enough.

“Eskel…” you mewled, voice quivering in anticipation. “Please…”

He tongued your petals before burying himself into your hole as deep as he could – he was hungry and yearning for more of you. Deliciously, he ate away at you, marvelling at the sight of _you_. Your clit was brushed occasionally by his nose, familiar and ever pushing onward towards that second high you were soon building.

And with your essence on his lips, the most daring of questions lingered; it was the one that had toyed with the back of his mind countless times during your absence.

“Do you want to move in together?”

On the verge of orgasm, you momentarily thought you’d understood him wrong, that he’d never ask such a question since _he was a witcher, after all_. So you just twitched underneath his touch, unravelling once more in his face, releasing the rapidly tied knot that made you shiver and moan pitifully.

Eskel smiled and coaxed you through your shattering high, lazily licking circles around your sensitive nub. You chewed your lip, chest heaving with lack of oxygen.

“So? What do you say?”

You were baffled by his voice and you looked at him expectantly.

“Pardon me?” you sighed through gasps for air.

“Do you want to find a home together?”

So, you hadn’t just been hearing things…   
You gathered yourself, leaning up on your elbows whilst you watched Eskel crawl over you, kissing your body in various places of which he knew it’d make another wave of pleasure surge through your core.

“A home? Just us?”  
“Yes.” he breathed, hot against your face. He kissed you for a moment, not wanting to succumb to his exhaustion. The idea of falling asleep next to you was tempting.

You shortly considered the question, though you did not need to think for long. After all, living together with Eskel after years of facing war and famine around you sounded like heaven. Settling into a cozy house, perhaps adopt a child or two from the orphanage? It brought tears to your eyes.

“Yes.” you answered, full of determination. “Oh, I’d love nothing more.”

Eskel was overjoyed, smiling from ear to ear. “Then it’s settled. Place to be decided.”

You laughed and he shortly pressed his mouth to yours again, chastely kissing you for a full minute.

He pulled back when he heard a faint rumbling, raising an eyebrow at your embarrassed state.   
“Ah, that must be my stomach. I haven’t eaten in two days.”

Eskel didn’t say anything, instead watching as you redressed, though there was no haste in your actions.

“I will let you eat in peace, then. Return to me soon, my love. We could bathe together. Get you some fresh clothes.”

“Of course.” you promised, fingering the clothes you were wearing. “I love you.” you whispered, walking over to him, softly kissing him on the lips. He smiled, cupping your cheek in his hand.

“I love you, too.”

With that, he watched you leave the room, listening to the padding of your bare feet against the stones until it faded in the distance.

He reached over for his nightstand, pulling open the drawer, reaching inside. From there, he pulled a small box, resting it on his hand palm. Eskel opened it, sighing contently whilst fantasizing about the life he was going to have with you. The future he had always dreamed of.

The small gem in the ring shimmered in the light of the candles.


	6. Regis | The Benefits Of Alchemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Luna Stars via Discord
> 
> Regis and alchemy go hand in hand, and when he catches a whiff of whatever you’re brewing in your secret hideout, it only proves he’s got a nose for things like that. Your experimental concoction turns out to be more effective than originally expected.
> 
> Word count: 3600+  
> Relationship: Lovers  
> Warnings: Anal play, overstimulation

The basket placed onto the soil next to you was halfway full when you put in a handful of mandrake roots and looked up to watch the lowering sun. It had been gently caressing your face with its final rays of light this past hour, but it grew chillier each passing the minute. Deciding to call it a day, you stood, dusting down your skirt before picking up the basket, which was quite heavy despite not being completely filled.

You retreated to La Mere-Lachaiselongue, to the small area inside the tomb which you had been calling home for a few years now. Your friendly relationship with Regis developing into a romantic one had you slowly but surely moving in - sometimes you stayed the night, the roads too dark to head back to your own home, and sometimes you stayed a week to keep an eye on alchemy tests you were running at his place - and eventually, you just _lived_ there. And at a certain moment, without any verbal implication, your relationship became more and more affectionate and you were acting as if you were already married.

It was both a delight and a disappointment to find the tomb empty. Though the torches warmed and lit the place, the true heat of intimate companionship was something you craved for. But on the other side, it left you space to run some experiments you had been wanting to try out for a while.

You put the basket down on the table and went to find the book you were currently studying on – research about different pleasing scents. So far you had found a few appealing perfumes which were able to calm down wild hounds as well as a heavenly smelling concoction that could be drunk either warm or cold and leave you satisfied for several days without food.

Keeping your notes neatly scribbled in the notebook, it wasn’t difficult to find your latest experiment. Well, it wasn’t very complicated what you were doing at the moment. You were only putting together some different ingredients from previous creations to see what you could get.

A few blooms of one thing, a few pinches of the other. You put them all into the pot of boiling water, stirring it thoroughly with a wooden ladle. A pleasant smell came from the liquid, putting you in a state of concentration. You softly hummed unnamed songs while you kept adding ingredients, tasting every now and then, making sure that it wasn’t poisonous.

However, when you cut up some blowball with your dagger to put in the liquid hiding in the stems, you accidentally cut your finger. You hissed in surprise, watching as a single drop of blood fell into the concoction. Not thinking a lot of it, you brought your hand to your mouth to suck on your index finger to stop the slight bleeding.

It took another few minutes for you to become wholly satisfied with the potion you were making, scooping some up with the ladle to have a taste. But just when you wanted to bring the spoon to your mouth, you felt a lingering presence behind you.

“What are you brewing there?” a familiar voice sounded, sending your stomach aflutter.  
Regis wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed a kiss on your neck.  
“Just experimenting.”

The vampire hummed, rubbing his nose against your skin. You shivered at the slight tickle.  
“It smells good…” he purred, “Might I say, magnificent? And you do, too…”

You laughed lightly and swatted his hands away so you could resume your stirring in the large kettle.  
“Well, that’s very possible, since I am combing ingredients from both calming and attracting potions…”

“I didn’t know one of them contained human blood as well.” Regis sighed, “Never took you for one to meddle in dark magic, even if it meant inventing new concoctions.”

For a moment, you stood confused. Human blood?

And then, you remembered it. A few minutes ago, you had accidentally cut your finger and thus added a drop of blood into the mixture. Regis being a vampire, of course, he could sense it.

“You’re putting me in heat, my darling.” Regis murmured, “Did you do that on purpose?” He grabbed your elbow so he could turn you around in his arms, having you face him.  
“I… Well, I…” you swallowed thickly at the sight of his erection pressing against his trousers, the tent sinfully visible in his pants. A warm feeling spread through your core, wanting you to immediately give in. But then, playing a little would be nice as well.

“Perhaps I did.” you purred, pressing a light kiss against the vampires jaw. Regis was looking so incredibly handsome in that moment that you felt your knees become weak. “So why don’t you lay down? Watch me whilst I finish my work? I am not done yet.”

Regis let out a dark chuckle. “Little vixen. I like that.”  
You gestured towards the bed, denying the kiss Regis wanted to plant onto your lips.  
“Na-ah. Not yet. I am still working, dear.”

The vampire walked over to the bed and sat down on it, leaning backwards to get comfortable. He kicked off his shoes, rubbing his chin in thought.

Teasingly, you started humming a song and moved your hips in time with it. Regis drew a sharp breath and reached for the book that was on the nightstand. Perhaps to distract himself, perhaps to keep himself from losing his mind over the scent that was coming from your brew.

A growl built up in his chest, unable to escape. What would you think of such a sound from the usually so calm and collected vampire? After all, you were just doing your thing right now, and it would be rude to… But then… You were suggestively moving your body. Making promises for later, when you’d finished your concoction.

Regis managed to swallow the sound he so desperately felt he had to bring out, his eyes shifting from the blurry chaos of his book to the expanse of your ass hugged by your pretty skirt. You had no idea what you were doing to him. His erection strained painfully against his briefs and he hoped you wouldn’t take too long. For a second, he palmed the bulge, but he wanted _you_ to take care of it.

“(Y/n)…” he brought out, goosebumps growing on your skin at the huskiness of his voice.  
You threw a look over your shoulder. “Hm?”

The telltale bulge in his pants said enough. You shot him a smile and sighed deeply.  
“Are you a little impatient, my darling?”  
Putting down a handful of hellebore petals, you turned to face him.

Regis was watching you like a hawk with eyes dark as coal. “What kind of potion are you making?”

You let your eyes reluctantly shift to the notes next to you. “Apparently, something lust inducing.”

The vampire made a sound. “I had already figured that out. But something _this_ strong…” he inhaled sharply, tossing the book aside, jumping to his feet. Within a second, he was in front of you, only a hair’s width away.

“Regis,” you said, and even though you wanted to give in, you enjoyed making him work for it, “You know that I cannot leave this stuff burning if you’re going to distract me. Who knows what will happen if this boils for too long…”

He knew you were right, but why did it take you so awfully long to put out the logs underneath the kettle? And the way your body bent and twisted in front of him in order to extinguish the fire, Regis was now certain that you were doing it on purpose.

“And… That’s that.”

Upon straightening your back, Regis took your face in his hands. He couldn’t take it any longer.

The first kiss he planted onto your askew lips was hungry but short in its nature. You keened, wrapping your arms around him as he moved his face to your neck, starting to explore the familiar flesh. There was a slight pressure against your hips as Regis forced you to walk backwards, until your backside hit the table where several potions and books had been spread out.

An almost annoyed sigh left Regis’ lips and he reluctantly peeled himself away from you, looking at the clutter for a moment. His eyes were darker than usual, you could see that clearly now. The vampire was in heat, and something had to be done about it soon.

Something you’d never expect him to do occurred – with one large swoop of his arm, he pushed everything to the floor. A few vials with unknown contents shattered and books fluttered open with a thud, accompanied with a rustle of paper that made you slightly cringe. Before you could respond to him, Regis lifted you onto the table, slotting his body against yours, hands resting on the table next to your legs.

His face was in your neck again and you tangled your fingers in his hair at the soft scratch of his teeth against your chin, a kind of haste behind his mouth you rarely found with him. No, this wasn’t the soft Regis you usually knew.

“Regis…” you patted his arm, suddenly overwhelmed by the idea that this was _your_ potion after all, and _he_ was the one getting affected by it… So _why_ weren’t _you_ the one calling the shots?

He pulled back, looking at you with half-lidded eyes, his breathing heavy and uneven.  
“Hm?” he quizzed, awaiting for you to speak. He desperately wanted to carry on, to rip your clothes off your body, to kiss every inch of your skin and then kneel between your legs so he could put his mouth to—

“Please, get off of me.” you mused, “And get on this table yourself.”

Something in his expression changed, from lust to surprise to utter content. “Sure.” he hummed, his voice a deep rumble coming from his chest. His knees slightly buckled when he stepped back from you. With a sultry smirk, you walked around him, pointing at the desk. He moved to sit on top of it, but you stopped him.

“No,” you said, “Bend over on it.”

Regis gasped when he felt a soft push against his lower back. He wasn’t sure what you were up to, but decided to obey anyways.

“Do you trust me, Regis?” you asked him.  
“Yes, (Y/n). Of course I trust you. With all I am.” he answered within a heartbeat.

A soft smirk grazed your lips and you traced his hips with your fingers, shimmying his pants down his legs. Regis’ milky skin covered in goosebumps at the cold air. Playfully, you reached around him, feeling at the erection straining in his underwear. He was rock hard – as you had expected. A grunt left him and you pushed your pelvis against his behind, causing you to push him closer to your palm.

There was a small wet spot staining his loincloth, betraying how turned on he was. The potion must’ve induced some kind of sensitivity, since Regis rarely orgasmed quick during sex. No, you were the one that had to cum first before it was his turn. According to his standards… But today, things were quite different.

“You’ve been so patient waiting for me.” you purred in his ear, leaning over his slightly larger frame by standing on your tiptoes. You pressed a kiss in his neck, continuing your fondling of his clothed member. Regis let out a groan, voice shivering.

“Please, (Y/n)… Please, I just…”  
“Sssh, I know… I know… All in due time, my sweet.”

Certainly, your own underwear wasn’t dry either, you thought to yourself when you moved down to take off his loincloth. His cock bobbed when it was freed from its restraints. The head was bright red and you smiled at the sight.

“You’ve got such a delicious treat tucked away, Regis…” you whispered. “Absolutely gorgeous…”

You knelt down, pushing apart his legs a little. Looking up, everything was out to you on full display.  
“Are you going to be a good boy for me, Regis?”

The vampire’s lips slightly parted in a moan when you took his length in your hand, pumping it up and down a few times. Precum already leaked down your hand upon the touch, veins throbbing under your fingers. You pressed a kiss on his thigh, starting to pump your hand.

“I am still awaiting your answer.” you mused against his leg, halting your fingers around the head of his cock, softly squeezing.

Regis smiled, supporting himself on his arms, trying to look at you over his shoulder. The angle made it impossible and he only saw a bit of your hair. The sensation of you pressing between his legs made him sigh deeply. “Yes,” he said.

  
“Yes what?” you countered, tightening the grip on his length.

You weren’t one for talk like that, Regis pondered, never before you had referred to him as a _boy_. But he liked the change and repeated, “Yes, I am going to be a good boy for you.”

He could feel your smirk. “Good.” You started moving your hand up and down, stroking him slowly to the point of teasing. Regis braced himself against the table, gritting his teeth whilst he tried keeping himself from rutting into your touch.

You softly kneaded his skin, massaging it over the sensitive circle near his tip, your other hand going to fondle with his testicles.  
“Fuck, you’re…” Regis’ fangs bore into his bottom lip when he felt your mouth envelop the expansion of his balls, softly starting to suckle them. The feeling of your tongue caressing the soft fuzz on his skin alongside the increasing speed of your hand on his cock almost overwhelmed him.

Regis rarely showed vulnerability, but you were an exception. He rested his head against the table, fully putting his weight on it – after all, he could barely stand on his legs. Your free hand went between your legs to slip a hand into your underwear, as wet as expected.

The higher vampire shifted on his feet, gathering himself against the steady jerking of your hand. Your touch was wonderful and even though he had felt it many times afore, the concoction made it altogether lovelier and all the more lust-inducing.  
When you softly moaned upon fondling your sensitive bundle of nerves, massaging it in sync with the strokes on his member.

You felt him pulsate against you, soft groans leaving his lips. He was probably close, unable to last beneath the gut-wrenching expanse of your fingers on his shaft. A few open mouthed kisses against the bare, translucent skin left a trail of saliva to where you nuzzled his testicles. Regis gasped at the feeling of your tongue playfully tracing a circle around his butthole, just teasing with the idea of…

“I am going to put a finger in your ass, okay?” The question had left you so casually that Regis immediately wondered for how long you had been contemplating it.  
He hummed, to which you requested a verbal response. “Yes,” he replied. And thus you removed your hand from your panties, slick with your own juices, and rubbed the area around the opening.

Regis gasped at the unfamiliar sensation, surprised by how sensitive the small ring of muscle felt, especially under your soft index finger. Slowly, you eased it inside, your eyes scanning his body for tension indicating regret.

You were relieved when you didn’t find any, and slid your finger in to the first knuckle. Deciding it would be enough of an experiment for now, you left it at that, keeping it in whilst focusing back on stroking his cock.

After being teased for quite some time, no one would question the tightening of Regis’ stomach along with the steady pulsating of the veins across his length. The head of his member was wonderfully purple and swollen with a dollop of cream growing at the slit.

You shifted, positioning yourself in such a way you were facing his front, halfway sitting under the table, and he was straddling you, still leaning on the wood. He was wonderfully vulnerable, moaning and sighing your name with every quiver of your skin on his cock. He wanted to be inside you, feel your walls around him, but this was also wonderful as well…

“I think I won’t last…” he grunted, a sentence he regularly told you whenever he was close to orgasm. After all, you mostly preferred him filling you up, but tonight, you had different plans.

In the heat of your desire to make him cum, you pressed your finger deeper inside of his ass, until it was halfway in. You wrapped your lips around his cock, groaning as he started to rut against your face. You immediately pulled back, reminding him: “I’m in charge, my darling vampire. I call the shots.”

Your grip around his length tightened and you opened your mouth lewdly, resting the weight of his tip against your tongue lewdly even though Regis was in no situation to watch you.

He leaned fully onto the table and it creaked dangerously. Regis called your name, length pulsating.

And then, he came.

A hot stripe of seed spread over your tongue, and with a few other jerks of your hand, he spilled more. His breath hitched, hips stilled within their instinctive stuttering against your tongue, and he whispered your name, almost too softly to be missed.

You smiled fondly as he found solid ground under his feet, knees regaining their strength albeit slowly. While swallowing his spend, you slipped your finger from his ass, and now with both hands grabbed his cock, which you hadn’t released yet.

“What… What are you doing?” Regis asked, confused but not hesitant. You didn’t reply to his question and instead decided to show him what you meant, or better, make him feel.

With as many fervour as you had used before, if not more, you stroked his limpening cock, denying it to become soft like it usually did after his high. No, he had to remain hard and throbbing for you. On the edge, desperately purple.

“(Y/n), fuck!” he murmured in a drawn out moan, bracing himself against the table. You could hear his nails dig into the wood. Then his legs deliciously trembled whilst you tightened your grip on his length, almost squeezing.

It wasn’t long until he was oozing again, recovery denied, but you kept stimulating him even after his second orgasm. He was panting as if oxygen was necessary to survive for him, the grip of his fingers leaving marks in the oakwood. The higher vampire was absolutely destroyed, and yet you didn’t go easy on him.

“You’re doing so good for me, Regis…” you mewled, “Think you can take another one?”

Regis was too tired to reply, mind hazy and legs weakly wobbling under him. You arose from your position on the ground, patting his hip to tell he had to turn around. Not needing any more lube to lather him in, you reached around his body, jerking off his satisfied flesh once more.

“Turn around, Regis.” you purred. With some effort, he managed to obey. Once he was standing right in front of you, you pushed him onto the table, coaxing him to find a more solid position.

You crawled over him, the table dangerously groaning underneath the weight of both your bodies. You rid yourself of your panties and didn’t waste any time. Despite the discomfort, you guided his cock into your depths. The call of nature soon made him stiffen again, growing in your depths. Regis grunted, eyes screwing shut as your walls clamped down around him.

Milking his cock for so long had of course worked you up. and you were looking to chase that high you had given him twice already.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me.” you muttered, leaning over to kiss his neck. “And you smell so good. Going to cum for me again?”

A weak sigh was all reaction you got. In return, you began rutting your hips against him as if you had been fucking for a while already – there was no build-up, no slow start, just aggressive, rough rolling. Your soaked skin slapped his, betraying your excitement.

Tonight, Regis was cut no slack. Since he had been denied a proper recovery from his previous orgasms, the third was soon knocking on the door. Sensing his nearing high, you massaged your own clit to make yourself cum. After all, you doubted Regis had any energy in his body left to get you off now. Not after what you just did to him.

With a small murmur, Regis came again, tears appearing at the corners of his eyes. Goosebumps covered his translucent skin, fingers trembling when they rested on your hips. Your own orgasm was quiet and collected, nothing too shattering but nice nevertheless.

“I just…” Regis’ words caught in his throat when he tried to speak. He draped a pale arm over his eyes, inhaling deeply to gather himself.

He had never been so vulnerable before.

“You’ve done so good, Regis.” you whispered. You pressed a kiss on his clammy forehead. “I am so proud of you.”

His lips were askew in heavy breaths while you dismounted him, the weight of his limp cock falling against his stomach with a lewd wet slap. You walked over to the large kettle, the fire underneath it still smouldering a little. From one of the shelves, you took an empty vial, dipping it into the liquid of which fumes had Regis become so pleasurably intoxicated.

Regis looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes.  
“You’re not going to light the fire again, are you?”

A soft chuckle left your lips, one that had Regis’ stomach pleasantly stir. You shook your head, turning to look at him.

“No, darling. I can’t do that to you. But I will hold onto this, just in case I ever want to use its fumes again.”


	7. Geralt | Soup And Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by KrissyHarley
> 
> The question if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time is debatable.  
> If you hadn't been attacked by that Griffin in White Orchard, you wouldn't have run into a certain master witcher.  
> With the right amount of soup, you might just patch him up.
> 
> Word count: 3300+  
> Relationship: Strangers

The hinges of the door of your homestead slightly creaked when you closed it. Cold wind found its way under your cloak, making you shiver instantly. All attempts to layer up proved fruitless. Still, your hunger was stronger than your will to stay warm, pressing you on.

White Orchard’s sandy road was almost abandoned. No wonder, with the lingering threat of an approaching autumn storm. Any other soul roaming the streets might have called you insane for going out with the thunder already audible in the distance. You enjoyed the temporary loneliness.

Pulling your cloak tighter around you, you made way to the fields just outside of the small settlement. Near Tomira’s hut, you often found many spices and herbs which you enjoyed in your cooking. You could have them for free, provided you brought her some food every once in a while.

You let out a sound of delight upon finding a patch of camomile blooms, kneeling down to gather them in the basket you were carrying. They would make for an excellent aroma in your currently simmering soup. If you were home in time, you could add them before it boiled too hard.

A little further away, you found some thyme and honeysuckle, musing in yourself about how they could be put to magnificent use later on.

“I could make a cream out of this! Oh, wonderful!” you murmured to yourself. The soft trickle of light rain started to pat on your face, causing you to look up at the sky. If you’d hurry home, you’d be back before—

\--Upon turning around to head back to the warm place of home, you stood frozen in your tracks, nailed to the ground. A large creature was heading right at you at a speed you could barely comprehend – well, you couldn’t comprehend anything right now. The blood drained from your face whilst the beast flew closer and closer, letting out a screech when suddenly, something seemed to distract him from charging at you. It turned around, obviously disturbed by something, _or someone._

Just now you stumbled back, the basket in your hand falling onto the soil underneath you, all your carefully collected herbs scattering beyond repair. “By the gods!” you cried out, starting to pray in your head to every god that came up – you weren’t necessarily religious, unless it came to a life-threatening situation.

You continued backing off, legs too weak to turn around and run. The only safe place was your home right now, and that road was being blocked by that… Griffin. You had head whispers around the village, but you had not believed the rumours. Looking back, you definitely should have done so.

“How do you like that silver?!” you suddenly heard a voice call out, gruff and loud enough to recognize it as a men’s. A gust of wind blasted the griffin to the ground, and just now you noticed a white-haired man with a sword in hand slashing at the beast for dear life.

Even though all your instincts told you to run off, you were paralyzed by both fear and awe. The way the man moved in his heavy attire, cutting up the monster in front of him, it was almost mesmerizing.

In a few minutes, the griffin was done for. With one final blow to its head, it collapsed with a final screech. The stranger sheathed his sword and sighed heavily.

You were surprised when he turned to you, doing a few steps closer. You noticed how yellow his eyes looked, as if they were feline. He was a witcher, you immediately realized.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he asked you. His voice was raspy and deep, unlike any other you’d ever heard.  
“Uh, not really.” you stuttered, “Thank you for saving me, sir. I don’t have anything to repay you.”

The witcher shrugged. “I guess I can let it slide for now. After all, it was a contract given by someone else, so technically I would’ve killed the griffin nevertheless. You stay safe now.”

He turned around, starting to walk away, when he suddenly flinched and nearly fell to his knees. Instinctively, you reached out to catch him, but he regained himself.  
“Are _you_ alright, sir? You seem injured.”  
“It’s alright, thank you.” he replied.

Suddenly, an idea popped up in your head.  
“Why don’t you come back to my home so I can check your wounds? I know a thing about two about healing, if I may be so free to share. Also, I have some fresh soup. See it as a thanks.”

The man looked at you curiously, narrowing his eyes before a small smile started to grow on his face. He looked absolutely exhausted, so a bit of rest might do him good.

“Why not?” He whistled on his fingers, calling for his horse.  
“I never caught your name, sir.”  
“Geralt. How about you?”  
“I’m (Y/n).”

Geralt managed to get onto his steed without too much trouble. He held out his hand, waiting for you to take it. “Well, (Y/n), why don’t you show me where you live?”  
“What about the griffin?” you asked.  
“He will still be here in another hour.”

Not arguing with that logic, you grabbed your basket before accepting Geralt’s ride. It had been awhile since you sat on a horse, so you were slightly off-balance. You gripped tightly onto him to prevent yourself from falling off.

“It is just in White Orchard, a little to the north-east.” you explained. Geralt simply hummed.

“What were you doing out there, anyways?”

“Trying to collect some herbs for my soup.” Another hum.

The witcher was quiet for the rest of the ride. You pointed him your house and helped him down inside.

“Easy does it.” you reassured while you placed him down on a chair. Geralt hissed in pain, the injury seemingly worse than expected. “Now, I need you to take off your pants while I go check on the food.”

You went to the stove to see how the soup was doing. It was right about done and so you scooped two bowls full of the hot liquid.

“I hope you like pumpkin soup.” you said while placing the two bowls down on the table Geralt was sitting at. Next, you went for your healing kit, only existing out of some bandages and a few numbing herbs.

Griffin wounds were another thing, you immediately realized when taking a first glance at Geralt’s wounds. He stretched out his leg, all bruised and bloody tissue visible in the light of the candles around you. “That looks painful.” you whispered. Geralt gritted his teeth when you touched it, prodding around the wound to see how deep it ran.

These kinds of wounds you never learned to patch up, but with shaky hands you tried to clean it as much as you could. “Just tell me if it hurts, okay?”  
“It has been hurting for a while now. Not sure if it can get any worse.”

You smiled a little, murmuring an apology when the witcher winced at your touch. The rest of his legs were also covered in scars, this fresh one soon adding up to the collection.

“For how long have you been a witcher?”  
“Huh?”  
“You have many scars. You must’ve been in this trade for a long time already.”

Geralt took a careful sip of your soup, hoping to not burn his tongue.  
“Ah, long enough.”

For some reason, you brushed your fingers over his leg, tracing a few of the larges scars on his calf, knee and thigh. Geralt took a sharp breath, almost embarrassed, though you doubted a man of his kind could feel such things.

He slurped again at the soup.

“This is good stuff, (Y/n).” he complimented. You lightly blushed.  
“Thank you. It could’ve been better, though. If the griffin hadn’t shown up, I would’ve been able to add some more spice to it.”

Geralt hummed. “Well, if it hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t be here, enjoying your soup.”

You blush darkened and you tucked some hair behind your ear. “You’re right.” you said. You chose to focus on his scars again. One of them suddenly stood out, the one high up his thigh, just below the hip.  
“How did you get this one?”

Geralt’s white hair fell in front of his face while bending over in an attempt to look at it.  
“Ah, that was from a nekker if I recall correctly.”  
“And this one?” a soft brush of your fingers had Geralt swallow hard.  
“I don’t remember.”

You dared drift your hand a little higher, right next to his crotch, where you saw another cut.  
“This one?” you said with a small voice. When Geralt didn’t respond, you looked up at him. Upon making eye contact, you felt the blood drain out of your cheeks.

“Geralt?” he slightly tilted his head whilst looking at you, cat eyes narrowing a little.  
“Geralt, are you alright?”

He leaned forward, cradling your face in one of his hands to tilt up your head just a bit.  
Before you could ask what he was doing, he pressed his lips to yours.

You had been kissed before, but never by a stranger. You froze in your place as much as you had done earlier today, not knowing how to respond. It was way different, though. After a few seconds, he pulled back.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I… Why I did that.”  
“It’s alright.” you whispered, trying to wrap your head around what had just happened.  
“I…” you blushed brightly red whilst looking at the witcher. “I wouldn’t mind if you’d do it again.”

Geralt showed a small smile. “Don’t mind if I do, then.”

He kissed you again, a little rougher this time. It had been a long time since you had felt _this_ content about being intimate with someone. But then, it had been ages since you’d been with someone.

The scruff on his chin roughed against you, but you liked the scratch of it. Geralt deepened the kiss, pulling you closer to him. His tongue was warm and heavy in your mouth. He tasted bitter. You wanted more.

Without a word, you crawled onto his lap, careful not to touch the fresh cut on his leg. _You should definitely patch that up_ … You shook off the thought, not wanting to break the moment.

Geralt was enjoying the way you were giving in to him. Fire started to build within his loins, your body scooting over his crotch making him feel pleasantly warm. The witcher pulled back a little, giving your bottom lip a playful nibble.

“I know a way you can make it up to me. That I saved you, I mean.”  
Your heart fluttered whilst you watched him through half-lidded eyes. Who would’ve known that a man of his kind was such a good kisser?

“Hm?” was all you managed to hum.

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” Geralt said, placing a hand right below your breast, on your waist. The slight stirring in his pants hadn’t gone unnoticed, leaving you blushing and desperate for more.

“Absolutely not.” you replied, leaning up to kiss him again. Geralt smirked, resting his fingers on your hip before giving your ass a playful squeeze.  
“Get up a moment, (Y/n).”

You obeyed, watching as he shoved down his underwear. You thickly swallowed at the sight of his erect cock, glistening and proud. Long veins ran over it and you immediately wondered if it was ever going to fit…

As if on command, you loosened the button of your skirt, letting it pool to the floor around your ankles. You stepped out of it, claiming back the spot right on Geralt’s lap. The only thing now keeping his glorious cock and your soaking cunt apart was the thin layer of fabric still on your body.

You momentarily felt a jealous pang go through your chest when you imagined how many girls the witcher must’ve fucked already, but you shook it off. Now was not a time to feel envy or possessiveness for that matter. You had only just met the man, so he owed you nothing… You on the other hand, owed him _everything_.

Geralt’s fingers played with the soft silk of your panties whilst his lips found your neck, a sharp intake of breath making you jump slightly. the witcher smirked against your skin when you writhed, legs numbing at the brush of his thumb against your covered clit. It was straining and almost too painful to endure.

You kissed him on the lips, cupping his face in your hands while he found his way around your underwear, calloused digits starting to play with the petals of your flower. Immediately, you whimpered, breaking the kiss in order to look at him.

_Oh, how disappointed mother would’ve been_ … Fucking a man on first meeting, letting him touch you like that. But she wasn’t around, was she now? And then, you were absolutely _drenched._

Geralt easily slipped in a finger, testing the tightness of your depths and your reaction to the sudden intrusion. You bit your lip, closing your eyes in concentration. Softly murmuring something, Geralt started to finger you. “What’s that?” you whispered, voice not able to increase in volume.

“Hm?”  
“What you just said.”  
Geralt smiled. “I said you looked beautiful.”

You blushed a little, soon gasping at the feel of a second finger being added.  
“You’re tight. Have you had sex before?”  
A scoff left your lips, nearly offended.  
“What a question, master witcher! Of course I—”  
“- I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re just so tight around my fingers.”

You sighed deeply when he increased his speed, the roughness of his skin pleasant and searing.  
“I can’t wait to fuck that cunt of yours.”  
For a moment, you grabbed onto his forearm, wanting to grind yourself against it, nearly forgetting about the lingering erection pressing against your behind. Upon realization, you pulled yourself back from his touch, not wanting to orgasm just yet.

You winced when he removed his fingers, leaning in to kiss him again. His lips were chapped and rough against your neck when he shifted his head to put his mouth to it.

“Geralt…” you murmured, standing up a little, hovering over his cock. He lined his length up with your dripping core, waiting for you to sink down.

You certainly had to adjust quite a bit, stretching around his girth with the right amount of discomfort. But he filled you up so nicely, your lips spreading around him, putting a pleasant strain onto your clit. When he was half-way in, you let out a sigh, fully letting yourself plop down onto his lap now. You had no idea you could take it in all the way.

When a second of adjustment washed away, all that remained was pleasure. Geralt’s fingers were still slick with your juices when he pushed them into your mouth. You moaned, starting to ride him. Sloppy, uneven movements while grinding against him, his length trembling within you. When you had nipped his fingers clean, he took them out, choosing to rest his hand upon the swell of your breast.

Geralt let out a grunt, not louder than his normal voice, but you noticed his breathing becoming ragged. “You feel nice.” he grumbled, daring to show a small smile grace his lips.  
“Thanks.” you whispered, sheepishly grinning all the same.

You rested your hands against his broad chest, speeding up a little. Geralt enjoyed watching you struggle to maintain an even pace in combination with the squeaks of pleasure that left your lips. He shifted to play with your hair, tucking a strand of (h/c) behind your ear. He cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb.

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” he praised, earning a small moan from you. The seat Geralt was sitting on dangerously creaked. You hoped the old wood would persist to hold you both.

Geralt lazily laid back, leaning one arm on the table, the other resting around your waist. Your breathing became heavy, sweat already leaking down your bodies. The slapping of your slick between yours and his thighs was lewd and loud.

“Are you going to cum for me?” Geralt asked you. “You’re so fucking tight.”

You chewed your bottom lip, nodding. “I can’t keep up…” you managed to squeal, failing to keep riding him. You were so exhausted, not wanting to change your position due to his wounded leg.

Geralt suddenly picked you up, setting you on top of the table. The bowl of fruit that was standing on it fell to the floor, shattering. You didn’t mind, though, only paying attention to the witcher in front of you who now took a hold of your ankles, bending your knees up towards your chest so he could slide into you deeper.

“I am going to fill you up, hm…” Geralt said, starting to pound into you mercilessly. Compared to his speed, your riding was barely anything. This monster-hunter knew exactly what he was doing, and you enjoyed every one of his movements.

He throbbed in you, close to bursting. His testicles slapped against your ass every thrust, making you sigh in pleasure. “Oh, Geralt, I am going to cum…”  
“Touch yourself, (Y/n).”

You happily obliged, starting to flick your fingers over your clit. The slick of your excitement gave the right amount of moist, drawing delicious circles around the straining nub. The sight made Geralt groan, followed by a hot stream of seed spreading through your insides.

“Oh, Geralt…” you moaned loudly, legs starting to shake. Geralt thrust a few more times, pounding through his high before pulling out. You whined, but soon he was onto you again, his mouth this time. Immediately, spurred on by the knowledge that you were about to have your orgasm, he began eating you out.

His tongue swirled over your clit whilst he thumbed his seed back into your hole – it would be of no significance given him being sterile – but he liked the idea of you having his spend so deep inside of you. When you finally came, Geralt coaxed you through your sea of jolts and shivers, the feeling of _him_ becoming almost too much to handle.

It took a while to come down from that high. You gasped for air for you had forgotten how to breathe, cunt pleasantly pulsating through the aftershocks. Exhausted, you rested against the table, letting Geralt put down your legs before he sat down in his chair again, unabashedly looking you up and down, admiring his handiwork between your legs.

“Thank you…” you breathed.  
“You too.” Geralt muttered, leaning in to kiss you firmly.

After a few seconds, you pulled back, heart still racing from your shattering climax. The mess between your legs grew cold and sticky.

“Geralt?” you turned to him, standing up on shaky legs. He held out his hand for you to take. Wobbly, you sat down on his lap again. The witcher could feel his spend leak out of you on his thigh.

“Hm?”  
“Can you stop by more often?”  
“If you choose to be attacked by a monster again, then sure.”

You laughed a little and slapped his chest, causing his cat-eyes to shimmer a little.  
“Of course, (Y/n). I really enjoyed this little… Adventure with you. And I will gladly experience it again.”

His answer satisfied you. Rubbing some white hairs from his face, you had a proposal.

“I have a bath on the other side of the room. Take one with me?”

Geralt didn’t even have to voice his opinion, a single glance was all it took. And so you stood up, moving over to set some water on the stove to heat it up. The witcher watched you, gaze setting on your ass.

He hoped you could make him some soup again, one day.


	8. Lambert | Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Kashalotinozean
> 
> An impromptu sparring duel with Lambert has you terribly annoyed, embarrassed, and eventually, just as turned on as he is. Too bad the bedroom is way too far off from the practice yard.
> 
> Word count: 3400+  
> Warnings: Public sex, edging, dirty talk

A painful thud against the back of your head drew you out of your concentrated state.  
“Hey!” you cried out, immediately putting your hand on the harmed spot. “What the hell?”

When you looked behind you, you found an oren laying underneath the bench you were sitting on. Upon letting your gaze go up, you saw Lambert standing, arms crossed, sword on his back.  
“Finally I got your attention, (Y/n). We’re supposed to be training right now. Eskel and Geralt just finished up, so the yard is all ours.”

The brunet witcher smiled a little at your sneer. You took the coin and tossed it back to him, but it didn’t even reach halfway the distance between you. Lambert chuckled, shaking his head. “You can keep it, Princess.”

He knew the nickname made your blood boil, and before you could respond, he was already out of the room. Rushing after him, you felt the need to give him a piece of your mind.

“You can’t just throw stuff at my head, decide what I am going to do _and_ call me Princess all within one minute, Lambert!”

He ignored you and didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder to watch you rant. You tried keeping up with his pace, but it was quite difficult. You stalked him outside, yelling on about how wrong his behaviour sometimes was and that he was annoying, and when he suddenly halted, you bumped into his back.

“What are you-“  
“Step back, (Y/n).”  
Just now you saw that he had grabbed a sword and held it out to you. “It’s time for training.”

You let out a sigh.  
“Fine,” you agreed, “But I am not in the mood for anything funny, understand?”  
Lambert smiled and opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off by pointing your index finger at him warningly.  
“Don’t make a period joke, I swear. Don’t you dare.”  
“Or what, Princess?” he smirked.  
“Or I won’t suck you off for a month.”

His tongue flicked over his lips, catlike eyes momentarily scanning your body up and down.  
“Well, if you don’t suck me off, I won’t eat you out. Well, since you’re on your period right now, I don’t think you’d want—”  
“I am _not_ on my period, Lambert!” you scowled. “It’s not funny! You’re a child!”  
“You’re making this way bigger than it is, (Y/n). Why don’t you take all that annoyance and pour it into our sparring duel?”

The steel of his sword sang as he unsheathed it.

“Well? Will you move?” he questioned when you kept your arms crossed over your chest, the sword he had given you resting against your leg. He smirked, taking on a fighting stance, proceeding to walk in taunting circles around you.

“That’s a lovely shirt you’re wearing, (Y/n). Would be a shame if someone… I don’t know, _cut_ through it!” At the word _cut_ , you grabbed the sword, spinning around, parrying his blow.

His eyes widened, and although he’d never admit it, he was quite impressed.  
“See? Not that difficult.” he told you. You rolled your eyes, pushing his sword back with yours.

Lambert staggered back, getting ready for another attack.

This blow was less easy to block, and you rolled out of the way right in time. Had you been a split second later, things would’ve turned out differently.

Your replied with a few quick quick swings, of which all were parried apart from the final one.  
Lambert let out a chuckle, his eyes finding yours.  
“You’re sharp today, Princess. Who would’ve known, after you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder.”

“Not that you care, but you haven’t been treating me all that well lately, either.”  
There was pent up frustration that suddenly came out in a powerful lash in which you poured your emotion. Lambert frowned, dodging it, albeit barely.

“Oh?”  
“Of course, you’re too thick-headed and self-centred to notice.”  
“Pray tell, Princess. When did I ever do such a thing?”

You felt a growl of anger building in your chest, and with a grunt you clashed your sword against his. It was both a relief to let out the rage and see a chance to actually _hurt_ him for once, just like he had hurt you plenty times.

“You! Are! Such! An! Asshole!” With every word you cried out, you struck a powerful blow in his direction, driving him all the way to the edge of the courtyard before knocking him to the ground, having him crawl out of your reach. He put up his hand defensively, although that shit-eating grin never left his lips.

“Alright, you win, you win.”  
Still, you weren’t happy, pressing the tip of your sword under his chin.  
“Perhaps I should just slit your throat right now.” you mused, “That way it will get a lot quieter around here. Has been some time since I had peace and quiet.”

His smirk grew, and before you could wonder why, he grabbed your ankle and yanked you down on top of him, your weapon clattering onto the ground next to him. With a sound of surprise, you landed on top of him, facing the sky. Upon landing back-first, you let out a grunt.

He didn't gave you time to complain, guiding you over by grabbing your wrists, his face now close to yours.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you look when you’re angry?”  
You couldn’t fight the blush that crept onto your cheeks.  
“Fuck you.”  
“I hope you will.” he muttered, reaching up to tuck some hair away from your face.

You stomped him against his chest, but not at full force. It was not like you _really_ wanted to hurt him… Right?

“You’re the worst!” you exclaimed, but when you tried getting up, he didn’t let you.

“By the gods, the things you’re doing to me right now.” He rolled his hips upward so you could feel the brush of his growing erection against your clothed core, and a spark of desire immediately ignited within your loins.

“Lambert, I swear, I told you I wasn’t in the mood for anything funny.”  
“Quite hilarious this, ain’t it?”

A gasp left you when he suddenly grabbed your ass, squeezing it firmly.  
“Those buns look always so good in those tight pants of yours. Please never wear anything else again, Princess.”

You cocked an eyebrow, trying to not give in.  
“Let go of me, Lambert.”

He smirked, running his tongue over his teeth whilst looking you in the eye.  
“Since when did you become such a prude, (Y/n)? Last time I checked, _you_ were the freaky one in the sheets.”

“We had wine! And that was in the privacy of your bedroom, not out here, out in the open!”

The brunet Witcher underneath you let out a deep chuckle.  
“I know you’d love to try it.”  
“Lambert, don’t you dare…” you warned. The sound of him unbuckling his own belt made your stomach drop.

You threw a quick glance over your shoulder to find the courtyard empty.  
“Lambert, I swear! Geralt is out there training with little Ciri, if they suddenly decide to move here, you’re going to ruin the kid’s life forever.”

Lambert sighed, rolling his eyes. “Geralt will ruin her life by himself anyway.”  
“That’s not nice, Lambert.”  
“Gods, your looking angry again… So enticing.”

He shimmied his trousers down his legs and you felt his cock poke against your ass through his loincloth and your still-donned pants. He guided it to rest between your bodies, pressed between the leather of his armour and the fabric of your tunic. If you looked down now, you could probably see the head peeking through.

“I could just cum from looking at your flustered face right now, but where is the fun in that?”

You couldn’t deny the steady throbbing of your clit, spurred on by the knowledge that his large and veiny length was resting against it so closely. Lambert brushed some hair from your face and leaning up, though still maintaining his grip on your ass with his other hand, he kissed you.

You sighed into it, placing your hand on his collarbone to push him off after a few seconds.  
“Why don’t we move to your bedroom instead, hm?” you proposed.

The witcher shook his head, “Oh, Princess, absolutely not. Do you think I’ll be able to get myself back into my pants with _this_ raging hard-on? I am not even going to bother.”

He suddenly flipped you over in his arms so now you were the one laying on your back, face flushed with both embarrassment and lust, awaiting what he was going to do to you.

The ground was rough underneath your body, but you were used to worse.  
Lambert put his fingers in his mouth before easing his hand into your underwear, teasing your wet folds.

You sighed, trying your best to not moan right away – you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.  
His yellow eyes drilled into you, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth as he watched your reaction when he thrust his fingers inside of you without any kind of warning.

A whine left your lips at the sudden intrusion, and it was soon replaced by a soft moan, walls clenching around the digits.  
“See, not bad at all, Princess.”  
You wanted to protest about that nickname again, but he curled his fingers inside, causing your words to fade.

Your hips were already stuttering with the brush against your clit, the excitement from your core staining your underwear and thighs. It was almost embarrassing how much of a mess you already were, but Lambert was only loving it, judging by his face.

He leaned in, pressing his face against your neck whilst he kept fingering you, quickening his pace. The lewd noise of your juices being disturbed echoed in your ears and you wondered if it was as loud as you experienced it right now. Mind clouded with pleasure, you took in the words Lambert whispered in your ear.

“You’re looking so damn beautiful, Princess. Listen to how soaked you are… Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes…” you moaned, drawn out and giving away your desire. The witcher deeply chuckled, circling your clit whilst remaining knuckle deep within you. He allowed you to move your hips in sync with his fingers, and you grabbed onto his wrist, riding yourself to that pleasurable height you were yearning for ever since—

\--He withdrew his fingers, and a wave of confusion and agony hit you, as well as coldness left behind in your core. Your clit painfully strained from the denied orgasm and you let out a cry of protest.  
Lambert simply chuckled, biting his lip.  
“You really think I am going to let you cum that easily? No, you will need to return the favour, for I’ve been standing at full mast for quite some time now.”

Before you could sit up, the witcher straddled you. Confused by how he was moving – upward towards your face – you tried speaking up. But when he suddenly hung above your head, testicles right above your mouth, you knew what he meant.

He lowered himself slightly, allowing you to take his balls into your mouth and softly suck. One of your hands reached for his bobbing cock, massaging the shaft to feel its veins running over it. Lambert sighed deeply, enjoying the feeling of your warm mouth enveloping the expanse of his testicles, so nicely sucking him off.

Precum collected at the slit on his tip, leaking down when the build-up was too much. He shivered at the sensation and it made your grip slippery and sticky. You took one of his balls into your mouth, sucking a bit firmer on the wrinkly skin. His length twitched in your grip, betraying how it made him feel.

You moved your body a bit upwards so you could lick a stripe towards the bottom of his cock, unable to lick up any further. Lambert looked down at you, though your vision hindered by the size of his throbbing head, purple with need.

It didn’t hide his lustful eyes and you felt your cunt clench at the sight, desperate of what was to come. “Hmmm, Lambert…” you sighed against the scruff on his skin, “Please, fuck me.”

The witcher smirked deliciously before moving a little backward, tip of his cock resting at your chin.  
“Have I told you that you could stop, (Y/n)?”  
At least he wasn’t calling you _Princess_ anymore… You obediently lapped at the seed already leaking from him, a content sigh leaving him.

“That’s it, now continue on…” You enveloped his tip now, starting to swirl your tongue around it. You rested your hands on his butt, trying to support him a little, though it was difficult keeping up.  
Without a word, he rolled his hips forward, shoving his length fully into your mouth. You gagged out of reflex, closing your eyes whilst tears appeared in the corners of them.

Your lungs burned and Lambert started fucking your face in a steady rhythm, his hands resting against the wall to make him able to continue his firm thrusts. The ground underneath you was growing uncomfortable and you bent your legs in such away so you could lift your back from the ground for a second. “You’re doing a great job, Princess… Gonna make me cum?”

You hummed in response, unable to speak over how full your mouth was with him, and the suspense of it all had you writhe in discomfort. Trying to mutter something, Lambert withdrew himself from your mouth, causing you to gasp. His cock bobbed in front of you, skin red and veiny, ready to burst.

“What is it?”  
“Please, please touch me…” you begged.  
You must’ve looked pitiful, with tears on your cheeks from your previously blocked airways alongside some snot that sat in the small dent between your nose and mouth.  
Lambert smiled, reaching down to tug at your bottom lip, grazing his thumb over your teeth.  
You eagerly took the digit into your mouth, sucking on it. You could vaguely taste yourself on his skin, since he had fingered you earlier, even though it felt like a lifetime ago.

“You’re eager, (Y/n)… And you’ve done so good for me, my little slut…”  
His words stung, but your throbbing clitoris did as well, so you gasped at the anticipation.  
“Let me feel how wet you are for my huge cock…” He crawled down to sit between your legs, removing your clothing in such a way so you were all exposed to him.  
Breasts spilling out from the top of your shirt, your nipples stiffened at both the exposure to cold air and the knot tightening in your stomach.

“Princess, Princess…” the witcher tutted, cat-like eyes focused on your swollen labia. “Such a wet slut, all for me. I think that if I’d touch you now, you’d cum right away. Perhaps you don’t need my cock, anyway.”

You whined at the idea of it, shaking your head. “No, please, Lambert… Fuck me…”  
“I thought you wanted to move to the bedroom?”  
“Stop bullying me and do it.” you groaned.

He let out a sound between a chuckle and a grunt when he teasingly slipped the base of his cock against you, slithering it in between your folds. Its length came to rest surrounded by your heat, weeping head of his manhood dripping precum on your abdomen.

“Lambert…” you pressed, starting to get bothered by his antics.  
You made a mental note to deliver revenge one day – if you’d remember in the heat of the moment.

The witcher hissed through gritted teeth, rubbing his length against your yearning cunt, still not giving you what you needed.  
“Pouting won’t help you, (Y/n)…” he said when you gave him your most pleading glare.  
“Beg for it, Princess.”

“Fuck! Why are you always like this?”  
“Correction: I’m not always like this.”  
“You’re not the one who gets to decide that!”  
“You really wanna argue when I’m about to—” he rubbed the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing it even more.

“I already begged you to touch me! And I sucked you off, ain’t that enough?”  
“Hm, I like it when those pretty lips of yours ask me to take care of you.”

You let out a huff of annoyance, but swallowed when you realized that it was the only way.  
Humiliating, perhaps, like a child asking for candy.

“Please, Lambert…” you muttered, puffing out your cheeks.  
His cat-like eyes widened and his smirk grew. “That sounded like you didn’t mean it.”  
“Well, do _you_ mean anything you say to me?”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“When you say you love me? Do you really, _really_ mean that?”

Out of nowhere, tears appeared at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall.  
Maybe it was yourself getting into your head, but Lambert soon kissed your cheeks.  
“I don’t know where you get that idea from Princess, that I wouldn’t love you. Don’t you fucking cry now, because I _do_ love you. I just have a terrible way of showing it.”

His skin was electric when his hands came to lay on top of your breasts, massaging them.  
“You do.” you said, voice breaking a little, but smiling. “You’re a fucking cunt.”  
“Speaking of cunts…”

Lambert slid himself deep inside of you until you could feel the hairs on his stomach brush your skin. You let out a sigh of relief, relishing in the feeling of being so _full_ with him.  
“That was about time…” you said, “With that orgasm you denied me earlier.”

Lambert let out a chuckle shaking his head. “You know you’d eventually get your high, when did I ever leave you without a climax?”

“More often than you think.” Lambert’s eyes widened at your seemingly serious statement, the pace of his thrusts slowing down. The expression on his face made you laugh out loud, starting to roll your hips in sync with his. “I’m kidding.”

The witcher frowned, increasing his speed again. His skin slapped yours in rhythmic pounds, your toes curling in pleasure. “I hope you are.”  
“You’d know by hearing my heartbeat.”

He smiled genuinely, reaching forward to grab your hands in his.  
He adjusted his position a little so he could lay on top of you, his feet quite awkwardly placed on the ground whilst he fucked into you, but it was the only way he could press his lips onto yours.  
“I’m going to feel my abs tomorrow.” you joked in between small moans, your legs wrapping around his waist, back arching as much as you could.

Lambert hummed in your neck, not really paying attention to what you were saying.  
Your walls were tightening around his length so nicely that he could barely concentrate on anything else.

“That’s right, Princess…” he murmured in your ear, his cock slipping even deeper into you. He pulled back from you so he could grab your thighs, riding into you as deep as he could.  
Sweat trickled down his chest and forehead, teeth gritted whilst he quickened his pace.

His fingers found out your clit, causing you to see stars.  
A moan came from you, built up deep within your throat, escaping at the feel.  
“Lambert…” you mewled when you came undone, unravelling at the touch of him, losing yourself in the intensity of your orgasm.

“Yes, you’re doing so well. Oh, I can feel you around me… Fuck, Princess, I’m going to cum as well!”

When his load painted your inner walls and your pussy clenched around him, you let out a shivering breath. His length pulsated in you so nicely that you almost forgave him for teasing you and seducing you so out in the open. _Almost_. 

And when Lambert pulled himself from your depths, making you wince at the feel, you almost had a heart-attack:

“You know…” a familiar voice suddenly sounded, “I once helped out a pellar whose goat was named Princess. Now I can’t unsee it anymore.”

Your eyes shot towards Geralt, who was standing a little away.

“Enjoying the show, White Wolf?” Lambert quizzed with a shit-eating grin.

“No, but next time you do things like these, make sure you won’t damage other’s eyes by having to witness it. You’re lucky that little Ciri is still fetching her practice sword from her bedroom. It would’ve been a disaster if she'd walked into this.”

“Vesemir is going to kill us.” you sighed.

“Well, he was going to kill Lambert one day eventually,” Geralt said, “But please, get yourselves away from here.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice.


	9. Gaetan | An Alternative Payment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Shadowwright
> 
> Summary: After losing your husband to a monster still terrorizing the homestead of you and your young baby every single night, your desperation is worse than your fear. When seeking for help in the local village, you stumble into a witcher from the cat school. Ironically enough living up to his name, he wants something you have, and that does not mean coin.
> 
> Word count: 4300+  
> Relationship: Strangers  
> Tags: Breastfeeding, lactation kink, angst

For the fourth time tonight, you found yourself at her crib, concerning yourself over your daughter’s crying form. A desperate sigh left your lips, and when you scooped her up, her wails somewhat lessened. She cuddled into you, holding onto your familiar scent, and though her eyes were still shut, she knew that she was _safe_.

Something _you_ hadn’t felt in a long time. Ever since your husband passed away and an unknown creature roamed around your farm at night, sleeping was not part of your schedule any more.  
It was a monster you did not know the name of, yet what it had taken from you was irreplaceable.

For whenever you managed to lay down into the bed once warmed by the man you loved, you became overwhelmed by the sights you had seen that fateful morning. Torn up, shredded to pieces, beyond recognition. Only because he was out to find some firewood.

It cost him dearly, but it had cost you more. Whatever was left to bury, you took far away from the farm to prevent any corpse-eaters to sow even more dismay.

When your stomach had swollen to the point of utmost discomfort, you knew that you couldn’t give up, that you had to live for your little one. Though you had thought of it, you never dared to truly leave the farm. It was all you had left of _him_. A somewhat painful reminder, albeit bittersweet. It wasn’t like you were welcome elsewhere, either.

But when your daughter finally came, you found yourself back in your sorrows. You truly wanted to keep on fighting, but it was difficult. Especially when no one was around to help you out with a three-month-old baby.

“Sssh… You’re okay.” you whispered in her ear, kissing the side of her head. You held onto the light of the flickering flame of the candle on the table, hoping it would take the noise from outside away.

It didn’t. It never did.  
What did the beast need at your farm, anyway? It wasn’t like you had corpses laying around, and your farm was a bit away from the outside world.

You were never one to ask for help, and the people around the village a little away always cast weird glances your way whenever you were in town. After all, you were quite on your own, and when you and your husband settled here, you sometimes heard rumours that you were a witch practising her unholy craft in seclusion.

Those whispers only increased when your husband passed and your stomach kept on growing. It left you wary of everyone close and _if_ anyone knew about the monster terrorizing you, they would most certainly put the blame on yourself.

Punishment for your sins.  
And even though you weren’t a witch, you almost started to believe that the gods were indeed chastising you, for whatever faults you did not know.

And so your heart was constantly struck by fear and shame, even though there was nothing you could do.

In your arms, your daughter began to stir. She was hungry, finding herself looking for the comfort of your breast. A soft sigh left you, almost relieved. The breastmilk you produced for your child was enough to feed triplets, and even though your daughter was quite a greedy baby, it was barely enough to take the pressure away.

Another punishment, perhaps.

The connection you felt to your daughter through feeding her while she took large gulps from you, the sound outside was blocked out by the trance you entered. It was just you and the little one, forever connected. It was the only cause worth living for, and whatever you had to go through, you would survive for _her_.

And when she finally fell asleep, you could see sunlight through the cracks in your shutters.

Carefully, you put her down in her crib, tucking her in underneath the worn sheepskin.  
Stepping outside, you found the footsteps of the beast, large and ever fear-inducing.

Nothing was broken, nothing was missing and the orchard laid extremely peaceful, as if nothing ever happened, apart from disturbed earth near the door. The sunrays stroking your face were calming and you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Even though you hadn’t slept, you lived to see another day.

Looking back at your house, you knew that you had to do _something_ about it all, because you couldn’t just keep on living like this. It had been going on for at least a year now, and you feared many more if you didn’t take any action.

So you tucked your slumbering child into a basket and hung it around your arm, able to see her sleep as if there was no evil in the world. With a note in hand, hastily scribbled that you were being terrorized by an unknown beast at night, you made your way to the village.

Of course, you immediately got dirty glares from the citizens, some of them not even bothering to look you in the eye. You made your way to the notice board, pinning the note to the wood.

“What’s that?” A stranger behind you said.  
You looked behind you, seeing an old woman looking at you in disgust.  
“I’m just putting up a contract for someone to help me out.”  
“No, _that_.” She pointed at the basket around my arm.

“That’s my daughter.”  
“Some people shouldn’t be allowed to have kids.”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The woman rolled her eyes, as if it was obvious. “You should give that child away before bad things happen to you. A witch shouldn’t have a child. You’re going to eat it, aren’t you?”

Your mouth fell open and you shook your head, barely any sound coming out.

“I’m not—”  
“Don’t try to hide it!” Someone else spat, an elderly man with just one eye. “Been some time since your husband’s been around, huh? You ate him too, I'm sure of it!”

Tears sprang into your eyes and you were on the verge of crying, your voice breaking as you muttered: “Stop that nonsense! I’m not a witch! My husband has been killed by the beast mentioned in the note!”

Another stranger decided to meddle in the conversation. “They should take your innocent child away and get you to Novigrad to burn you at the stake!”

A teenager nodded, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  
“Yeah, there is no way that she could survive—” he closed his mouth, seemingly flustered by something before turning away.

“What did you say?” you pressed, but the boy rushed off.

You turned to the few villagers who had gathered around you, one looking at the notice board.  
“Huh, the person who’s going to help you will probably never return either. You will capture and kill him and put his limbs in your potions!”

Threateningly, they started to close in on you. Instinctively, you put your arm over your daughter, who had awoken and started crying. “No, please! Stop!”

“We won’t back down from you, you mongrel. There is no one going to help you now!”

“Help, please!” you cried out, but no one came to aid.

“We should attach a stone to her legs and throw her in the lake. If she floats, she’s a witch!”  
“Good idea, Bartholomew. I can get the stone, if you fetch the rope!”

One of them grabbed your arm, your baby only wailing louder.  
“Come on, tramp!” A woman tried to grab the basket with your baby, but you held onto it for dear life.

After all, she was all you had. An older man lifted his fist, ready to strike.

“Why won’t you listen, you fucking—”  
“Stop!” The man who was about to hit you let his hand hover in the air, awkwardly standing there whilst a loud voice boomed everything to a halt.

“I’ll help her. Get away from her.”

From somewhere within the crowd, people started to mutter among each other.  
A few stepped aside, revealing the man who had offered his aid.

Cat-like eyes drilled in yours and he narrowed his eyes at you, your arm wrapped around your baby, halfway lifted from the basket in an attempt to comfort her. “Bring me to the place where the monster appears and I can see what I can do.”

“But she is a witch, sir.” a woman said.  
“And I’m a witcher.”  
“Are you going to kill her? You must, if she truly is a witch.”

He turned to the woman, gritting his teeth. “Listen, missy. I’m not one to judge one’s actions, and you aren’t one either. If this woman truly is a witch, it’s none of your business.”

“But she killed her husband!”

The witcher looked at you again, something with reassurance in his eyes.  
“I’ll find that out for myself. If that is indeed the case, I will kill her.”  
But you could already read on his face that he didn’t suspect you of anything.

You nodded meekly, lifting your babe to rest her on your chest, trying to calm her down.

“Follow me, master witcher.” you said, turning on your heel to head back to your home.

“They don’t like you much, do they?”  
You let out a scoff and shook your head. “Well, they think I’m a witch. Just because my husband and I preferred living in seclusion.”

He grunted. “Why don’t you leave?”

“I have nowhere to go.”

Another grunt. The rest of the walk was in silence, apart from your daughter sucking on your finger.

“May I ask your name, sir?”

“Gaetan.”

“Nice to meet you, Gaetan. My name is (Y/n). Ah, here we are.”

You took your key from your apron and unlocked the door, pushing it open. But other than entering, like you had gestured for the witcher to do, his gaze was already fixated upon the large claw marks littering the place.

“Quite the beast.” he said.  
“I can tell. It widowed me.”

“How long ago?”

Your gaze shot up to find his, confusion in your eyes.  
Why would he care about that?

“I don’t see why that would be necessary to know…”  
“So I can know for how long the monster has been prowling about.” Gaetan stated.

Of course. You blinked a few times before replying: “A month or two before I fell pregnant. So a little over a year right now.”

He silently nodded.  
“You may enter.” you encouraged.

Gaetan let out a huff and shook his head.  
“Not yet. I need to look around a bit more.”

Not thinking much of it, you entered your house, sighing deeply when you could finally sit down.  
Your daughter had started to fuss and you were glad that she did; when your walk home began together with the witcher, you had started to feel pressure on your breasts, nipples tingling in discomfort.

Easing your dress off one shoulder to reveal the heavy flesh of your breast, you wasted no time putting your child onto it. She greedily drank from it and the pressure somewhat lessened, causing you to sigh in relief.

Your eyes fixated on your baby, for a moment your problems washed away.

“What in the—” Your head shot up to look at the door, where the witcher had entered, shielding his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were…”

“It’s alright.” you said, “There is nothing to be seen anyway.”

Gaetan slowly took his hands away from his face when he noticed you weren’t abashed at all. Your daughter made a few content sounds, tiny hands grasping on your shirt.

“Well, are you just going to stand there? You can take a seat, master witcher. And uh… I’d offer you a drink, but I’m kind of busy. There is ale in the cupboard right over there, if you want.” You nodded towards said cabinet, but Gaetan sat down instead.

He tried keeping his gaze away from the exposed skin of your breast – it wouldn’t be appropriate. And you were right – there was nothing to be seen, because your nipple was concealed by the body of your daughter.

“Have you found anything on the monster?” you quizzed, rubbing some hairs from the baby’s face. Her fingers were still tight on the fabric of your dress, but you didn’t mind.

“I believe so. I feel like it’s as werewolf, and for some reason, it seems oddly fixated upon this place. Scratches, small holes around the house, as if it tried to enter in different ways.”

You nodded, eyes slightly widening. “A werewolf, you say? Could I be cursed?”

Gaetan shrugged, swallowing thickly when your areola became momentarily visible when you readjusted your child on your breast. A small amount of milk seeped down over your skin into your dress, causing the witcher to bite his lip.

“Who knows. I should stay at least until nightfall so I can slay the beast.”

“Okay,” you said, undoing your dress on the other side and haphazardly hoisting it back up on the breast your daughter already drank from, hoping to relieve some of the pressure inside that one as well, “You can have some food, if you’d like. I can cook something.”

He shrugged. “That won’t be necessary. What will be needed, though, is discussion of payment. What do you offer me?”

Your gaze fell to your lap, not even daring to look at your child in shame. “I… I don’t have any gold, master witcher. I have nothing I can give you…”

“What about that?” the witcher pointed at your exposed neck.

Your hand immediately shifted to the necklace you wore – your husbands wedding band on a string.  
“I… It’s my husband’s ring, I…” You gently took your child away from your breast, not minding covering it up when you laid her back into the basket still placed at your feet. Reaching out behind your neck to undo the knot, you felt your painful nipples leak at the sudden movement of your arms upwards.

Gaetan’s eyes rested upon them for a moment, he thickly swallowed and forced himself to look up at your face again. You were a beautiful woman, that was certain. He had heard stories of sorceresses going as far as killing innocents in order to conceive a child, since they had lost their fertility.

Could you be a sorceress, or a witch as the inhabitants of the village claimed? His medallion must've trembled if you were. He had found no evidence of any magical items around your home, and no lead as to _why_ you were tortured by a werewolf alike.

As you held out your hand holding the ring to the witcher, gesturing for him to take it, you covered your exposed breasts with your free arm. “Here. I hope it will fetch you the price you ask.”

Gaetan looked at it. It wasn’t shimmering or too clean – a modest wedding ring that vaguely resembled gold, even though it was obviously crafted from a cheaper metal.

When he gazed back up at your teary gaze, he shook his head. “I can’t take it.”

“I have nothing else.” you whispered.

He wasn’t sure why he had said it, or why he felt remorse. To take such a precious item from you would be wrong. You had started to put your dress back on, though obviously in discomfort. Not only because you just gave away of your most precious items in the world, but also because your own body was hurting you.

As soon as you had your dress back on again, dark circles appeared at where your nipples were.  
“I’m so sorry…” you said, ashamed. “I need to redress. This happens all the time and it’s just…”

You felt a tear roll over your cheek, and as soon as you realized you were crying, there was no holding back anymore. Burying your face in your hands, you sniffled. Luckily, your daughter was starting to fall asleep, giving you some time to gather yourself.

“Are you alright?” Gaetan asked, surprised by his own gentleness. This was unlike him… _Why did he care? Why did he feel attracted? Was it because you were beautiful, or distressed, or truly a witch?_

You shook your head, sighing deeply, calming yourself down.  
“It hurts, you know. Having no one to hold you, help you soothe your pain. I’m sorry for acting so emotional, but I feel like even my own body is turning against me.”

The witcher scooted closer, placing a hand on your leg, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.  
“I don’t have anything against you.”

You looked up at him with a tearful gaze, brokenness visible in your eyes.

The witcher swallowed, overthinking what he could possibly do for you. A thought briefly crossed his mind whilst he drew comforting circles on your knee, shaking it off immediately. You would never agree and it would be inappropriate, even though Gaetan didn’t remember any time he asked someone for permission to do something.

“What is it?” you said, seeing the puzzlement on his face?  
“Oh, nothing. I thought of payment, but it’s not appropriate.”

You frowned, rubbing at your eyes, taking a deep breath. “No, no, go ahead. I’d do anything to get rid of that monster terrorizing me.”

Gaetan grimaced, shaking his head. “You’d never agree, so it would be best if I didn’t share it.”

When you laid your hand upon his, he dared to look up at you. “It’s fine. Tell it.”

The witcher shifted, leaning a bit closer to your face. You felt your cheeks heat up, realizing how handsome the man truly was. His eyes were captivating, taking your breath away.

“I could… Help you out… With the pressure on your…” he gestured at your chest, where the circles had only grown.

You slightly tilted your head in confusion. “I’m not following… I’d appreciate any help, but how would you do that?”

“I mean, as a payment, would you… Would you let me suckle them?”

First, you thought your ears were deceiving you, but after a second, you realized he had really requested that. Your face paled, and then flamed. The idea was odd, and immediately your mind was on your husband… _Who had been dead for almost a year now._

What other way was there? If you declined, the witcher would walk right out, because you didn’t have anything else. And if you agreed, you’d get something out of it too – finally some relief from the overproduction of breast milk.

Gazing upon your daughter, you saw that she was fast asleep, thumb stuffed into her mouth. Silently, you stood up, undoing the laces on the front of your dress again, pulling it down. The underside of your breasts were damp and glistening with milk, nipples puffy and pink.

“Okay, Gaetan.” you said, referring to him by his first name now, “But nothing more than that.”

The witcher couldn’t help but smirk at your approval. “Agreed.” he said, standing up as well. You walked towards the bed with him in tow. You sat down on the creaky cot, waiting for him to join you. He took off his boots, awkwardly sitting down next to you.

You turned towards him as he sat down, now facing each other.

“So uh…” he mumbled, “Do you want to kiss first?”

You shook your head, uncertain of what you wanted. “No, you can just… Start, I suppose.”

He leaned down, giving an experimental lick against one of your nipples.  
Something lustful within you kindled, his feline eyes sending shivers down your spine.

You sighed at the feeling as he circled your areolae with his thumbs, his hand coming to rest on your other mound of flesh starting to massage it. He smirked when your face flushed, enjoying the way your lips formed a perfect ‘o’. Throwing your head back, you tried your best not to moan, not wanting to both awake your baby and give him the intention that you wanted more.

 _Because you didn’t want more… Right_?

Slowly, his lips closed around your nipple, scruff of his beard roughing against your skin. One of his arms snaked around your waist, and within a second you were upon his lap, blushing and suppressing sounds of pleasure.

It was different than anything you had ever felt when Gaetan started to _suck_ , slowly at first but not wasting time to intensify his actions. He groaned against your breast, enjoying the taste of the rich creamy milk flowing from you. Like a hungry animal, he switched sides to feast upon your other tit, making them even more sore than they already were.

You cradled your hand around his neck, not unlike the loving way you usually held your child, as if Gaetan, too, had to be supported. He took the breast he was sucking in his hand, his other arm holding you tightly against him.

Of course, you couldn’t help but moan when his large fingers squeezed your breast, more milk dripping out. He flicked his tongue against your perky bud, revealing the slight white hue that was visible upon it. A small amount trickled from the corner of his mouth, pupils wide blown with lust.

Pressing a hand over your mouth, you tried to fight the moan that threatened to spill from you. Oh, you were enjoying this way more than you should. Casting your eyes over to your daughter, she was still sound asleep, unbeknownst to the scene unfolding.

Upon feeling a hard lump underneath you, you knew exactly what was going on. The witcher was liking this more than he’d ever admit, too.

In a wave of lust and confusion, you cupped his face in your hands, tearing his mouth from your nipple and pressing yours against it instead. The sudden desire to kiss him, to _be with him_ , it was too overwhelming.

Gaetan melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up. He gently laid you down onto the bed, not breaking the kiss. His lips soon moved to your neck, sucking upon all sweet spots he could find.

As lustful as you were, you knew that you couldn’t let him take you right then and there. It would be too soon, and it wouldn’t be fair to your _husband_ —you shook your head, trying to get rid of the thought about him.

The witcher pulled back, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. “Are you okay (Y/n)?”  
You wryly smiled, rubbing some hair from your face. “Yes, it’s just… I don’t want things to go too fast.”

Gaetan nodded, “Of course,” and kissed you again on the collarbone, moving down to kiss your breasts again. You smiled, relieved that the pressure had lessened and the man helping you out enjoyed it so much. “I would never get enough of those.” he confessed.

Reaching for his belt, you unbuckled it without looking. Pulling back from your nipple with a _pop_ , the witcher above you watched you confused.

“If you like them so much, master witcher…” you muttered, smiling. “Why don’t you _cum_ on them?”

A groan left him at the idea and he momentarily left your body to take off his trousers and underwear. You laughed lightly and swallowed thickly at the sight of his glistening cock, which was standing at full-mast already.

He straddled you once again, weight of his length resting in his hand, the other coming on the duvet to support him. He wasted no time in starting to jerk himself off, his foreskin rolling over the tip and revealing the precum building at the slit.

You licked your lips, starting to massage your breasts, kneading them together. You tried mimicking their bounce as if he was fucking you, though differently.

“Come on, master witcher… Put your cock in between, they’re getting cold!”

Where your sudden lewd behaviour had come from, it was a mystery to you. But the sight of his massive member slipping in between the warm expanse of your breasts caused you to softly moan.

Slowly, he started to fuck your breasts, and you knew that with the swell of his penis and the slight throbbing of the veins running towards the head, his orgasm couldn’t be far off. Lifting one of your breasts a bit higher, you managed to ease your own nipple into your mouth, causing the witcher to grunt in delight.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” You blushed despite already exposing yourself to him so much; he meant his words. “(Y/n), you have no idea how you look right now…”

 _How then_ , you wanted to ask, but a groan overshadowed every thought in your head. Hot stripes of semen landed on the skin of your breasts, mixing with the saliva already covering it. Gaetan rubbed himself through his high, gritting his teeth before gasping for air.  
Lifting your breasts up to your face, you tried licking off most of his seed, enjoying the slightly bitter taste which you had honestly missed. After all, it had been so long since you had been with someone.

“That’s payment if I’ve ever heard of it…”  
You smiled, beckoning him for a kiss. He gave it to you, playfully nipping your bottom lip.

“It’s the first retainer, if the master witcher wishes more…”

He looked at you with a smirk. “After you slay the beast, of course.” you added, “Then we can… Negotiate further.”

He stepped off of you, reaching for his underwear. “That’s fine with me,” he said, “Absolutely perfect, honestly.”

You arose from your bed, taking a cloth off the nightstand to wipe yourself clean with.

In the basket, your daughter started to stir, fussing a little when she noticed her mother not at her side. With a soft sigh, you lifted her up, knowing that she would be hungry again.

You watched as Gaetan started making some potions, meanwhile feeding your baby against the sore flesh of your nipple. “I hope you don’t mind that the kind master witcher had a little taste on his own, but it wasn’t like you would’ve been able to finish it on your own, after all.” you told her, already looking forward to your next encounter with the witcher.

For the first time, you were actually looking forward to the beast showing up, just so you could give yourself to Gaetan.


	10. Dettlaff | Assurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Luna Stars
> 
> Within the chaos of Beauclair's upcoming downfall, you're determined to confess what you feel for Dettlaff. The higher vampire does not trust easy, not even a close friend, but you can't blame him for that. After all, actions speak louder than words.
> 
> Word count: 2800+  
> Warnings: Angst

Your mother had always told you to follow your own heart. That hate was one of the most malicious emotions in the world and that you shouldn’t carry it around with you. Animosity was something that would become you, in the end. It makes you bitter.

You had never realized what she had meant. Until now.

Chasing after the friend you held dear to your heart proved quite difficult. Regis had once said, that if Dettlaff did not want to be found, you’d never get a hold of him. But sitting outside his house had you eventually catch the moment he appeared in the place he called home, the tiny toy shop where he usually crafted wonderful items, before… Before it all happened.

The mere thought of Syanna had your heart race with anger. Oh, you _despised_ her. Part of you hoped that she wouldn’t show up in three days at Tesham Mutna. It was selfish of you to think such things, because Dettlaff had promised to tear Beauclair apart if she wouldn’t be there. But you didn’t want that bitch to even just _breathe_ close to Dettlaff ever again…

 _Dettlaff_. Your friend, or maybe something more, in your dreams. A deep longing had rested in your being for a long time. Only Regis knew, as he saw your tears whenever he comforted you. Often breaking down over the fact that Dettlaff was with _her_ … It hurt Regis to see you so sad. And he knew that you were a way better match for the raven-haired vampire.

And just how Regis had often comforted you, you wanted to go and comfort Dettlaff. Gathering every ounce of courage you held, you placed the key he had once given you inside the lock, turning it as quiet as you could. Even though he probably already noticed you, you tiptoed inside.

The shop’s shelves were dusty and hadn’t been touched in a long time. It smelled of the vampire you held dear, causing your knees to grow weak. When you heard rummaging upstairs, your heart started to race in your throat. Dim candlelight pointed the way to the stairs, but you knew the shop like the back of your hand. No light was needed to find your way around.

You made your way up the stairs, avoiding the steps you knew to creak. Holding your breath, you peeked around the corner to see Dettlaff pack up his things, seemingly in a hurry.

The drawing of Syanna on the wall made your eyes narrow.  
Feeling like you needed to say something, you took a deep breath.

“Dettlaff?” your voice was tinier than ever, but the vampire in question noticed your presence. His head whipped around, claws soon extended, rushing towards you to grab you and push you up against the wall. You felt the air being pushed out of your lungs, temporarily leaving you paralyzed.

“You traitor! You’re with them, aren’t you?”

You were unable to answer, staring at him in fear. His eyes were darkened and his face was full of rage. Trying to speak up, all that managed to leave your lips was a pitiful squeal.

For the first time ever, you were _afraid_ of him.

And when he saw your eyes fill with tears, Dettlaff momentarily loosened his grip, deliberating what was going on. Was it an act, he wondered, that you were on the verge of crying right now? A few hot drops landed on your cheeks, lips trembling whilst failing to form words.

Dettlaff adjusted his grip so you could breathe more freely, though still trapped against the wall by his claws. “Dettlaff, please.” you whispered, voice breaking.

“Please _what_ , (Y/n)?” he sneered, “Let myself be killed by that witcher? Oh, I will not fall for that sweet face of yours. I’ve been played quite enough! _I_ am in control now!”

The volume of his words made you flinch, eyes snapping shut in a reflex. “Dettlaff…” you muttered, not daring to talk any louder.  
“Dettlaff, I love you.”

The vampire shortly froze, jaw falling agape whilst staring at you. He released you, allowing you to land on your feet, your hands immediately rubbing at the painful marks around your throat.

Then, he scoffed. “Why should I believe that? Syanna said she loved me! Turns out she is a back-stabbing, treacherous—”

Before he could finish his sentence, you practically launched yourself forward, pressing your lips to his in a chaste kiss. Dettlaff stood still in shock, eyes widened whilst yours fluttered shut. You had imagined kissing him for quite a few times, but the real thing was so much better.

After a few seconds, you pulled back, the soft sound of the peck being ended bringing Dettlaff back to his senses. “What… What are you doing?” he quizzed, looking at you with a puzzled expression.

You didn’t respond in words, yet again in actions. Looking up at him with pleading eyes, you stood on your tiptoes to kiss him again. Unceremoniously, you pressed your tongue against the softness of his lips, hoping to gain entrance. Dettlaff hesitated, though shortly played with the idea in his mind.

You mistook it for rejection, pulling back when his lips stiffly stayed together. “I’m sorry…” you sighed, stepping back, tucking some hair behind your ear. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have kissed you, Dettlaff, I…”

Lost for words, you stood dumbfounded when Dettlaff suddenly grabbed your face in his hands, which were now back to their more human form. He cradled your cheeks with such care and looked at you with such intensity that you almost started crying again.

“(Y/n), I… By the gods, did you mean what you said? That you love me?”

Almost ashamed, you nodded your head, fearing that he'd say he didn’t feel the same. But in that moment, Dettlaff realized something. His heart had always belonged to you. All he ever wanted, all he ever _needed_ was not Syanna. It was you, right there under his nose, all along.

“(Y/n)…” he whispered, softer, full of admiration.  
“Yes?” you croaked, entranced by his breath on your face. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the gentle breeze that made you crave kissing him again. Something else stirred within, too.  
Something that had been there countless times before, when touching yourself at the thought of him doing those _intimate_ things to you…

“Can I kiss you?” He didn’t have to ask twice and you nodded firmly, causing the vampire to smile. Dettlaff looked lovely when he smiled, you thought.

With him initiating the kiss, it was way better. Now receiving proper response, your tongue was soon circling his, the taste of him spurring you on to lay your hands on his chest, letting him pull you closer. The kiss was feverish and wet and desperate, the pool in your abdomen starting to show its results in your panties.

Dettlaff’s chest produced a low growl, the sound of it causing a whimper to build in the back of your throat. It came out as soon as Dettlaff’s tongue started lapping at your neck, his teeth resting on your skin, just shortly considering the idea of—

He snapped out of it, a soft nibble the only thing he teased you with, _for now_. Oh, your scent was maddening to him, cogs and bolts in his mind turning to figure out of _how_ he hadn’t ever noticed it before…

“I want you…” Dettlaff breathed, voice dark and full of certainty. When you locked eyes with him, you felt the heat rush to your face even more. Never before had a man looked at you with such adoration. You cupped his cheeks, kissing him again. “I want you, too.” you replied after a few moments of lip-lock.

The vampire picked you up, turning to the bed to toss you onto it. Once again, the air left your lungs altogether upon impact, but you didn’t blame Dettlaff. Unlike before, he now gave you the chance to catch your breath. He practically ripped off his coat, shirt, tossing them to the floor so he was topless when he crawled over you, breathing heavy and soundly.

His teeth glistened when he smirked at you, his hand coming to rest on the nape of your neck. He eyed your reaction; all the sudden shy, when before you didn’t hesitate to kiss him. His stomach fluttered with feelings among lust, the desire to pleasure you until you were more than content in his arms.

Skin on skin contact was something Dettlaff usually was weary about, but with you, he couldn’t put his hands all over you soon enough. He slid his hand down, revealing your collarbone. He pressed his lips onto it, earning a soft sound from your lips. The most beautiful masterpiece of music in the world could never compete. Your voice had to be one of an angel, Dettlaff thought to himself. With a swift motion, your shirt was torn open, revealing the plump flesh of your breasts, raising up to him with a gasp from you, nipples hardening upon contact with the air.

Your soft (s/c) skin felt heavenly underneath his fingers, and his fingers felt the same on your skin. He cautiously leaned in, pressing his mouth to one of the sensitive buttons, giving an experimental swirl. His lips left hot trails and soon enough they were all over your breasts and the area around them. He mouthed at your ribs, inching more and more downwards, listening to your whimpers and shivers.

“Dettlaff, please.” you begged, hoping he would move on to stimulate the burning fire between your legs. Though you enjoyed the foreplay, it was pure desire that had you urge him to hurry. There it was again, the rare smirk tugging at his lips. He wasn’t done with you yet, kissing at your abdomen and remaining there as if it was the most interesting part of flesh he’d ever seen.

The vampire now teased himself in a way, too. The scent of your arousal stung in his nose and made him want to give in to that lustful desire to fuck you raw and rough. Not yet, he thought to himself, he wanted a taste first.

Long fingers made their way into your underwear, gathering the moist that was dampening the fabric of it. Dettlaff tugged it aside, revealing the blossoming lips of your sex. You keened when he grazed over your cunt with his index finger, prodding it to coax a reaction out of you. Even though he was barely touching you, you looked like you were about to reach your high. Though you weren’t there yet, you momentarily wondered if your longing for physical contact with him had your body respond so desperately.

Dettlaff didn’t mind. He finally placed his mouth onto your folds, another taste of you spreading in his mouth. This was better than all the blood in the world, he thought to himself, shifting to pull your legs over his shoulders.

You tightened your muscles to stay in the position you were in, though soon supported by one of the vampire’s large hands. He held you in place, eating you out whilst opening the button of his trousers with his free hand. The strain of his cock was too uncomfortable not to relieve and when it popped out of his underwear, it was glistening in anticipation.

Your flavour and moans were enchanting, his name slipping from your tongue whilst his traced circles over the hood on your clit, only kindling the desperation within you. It took every ounce in your being to not bring your hand up to rub your own sensitive bud to an orgasm. And then, having Dettlaff have his way with it, it was way too nice to be over so soon.

He engulfed your labia with his mouth, sucking tightly whilst you shivered under his touch. Your hands rested on his and you laced your fingers together, holding onto him. “My, my…” you moaned, smiling at him. “You’re wonderfully good at this.”

Dettlaff raised an eyebrow, even though he rarely showed playfulness. “Then I suggest I should do it more often.”

You laughed out a breath, moving one of your hands to cup your breast in one palm. “That’s one of the greatest ideas I’ve ever heard.”

Your stomach knotted and turned, heralding an upcoming climax. Shortly, you considered not mentioning it so he would eat you through your orgasm – and it was lovely to have such a high – but you wanted to be pushed over that pleasurable edge someway else…

“Dettlaff,” you sighed, “Please, come here… I want you to put yourself into me.”  
The vampire in question did not need to overthink – he crawled over you, pressing a kiss here and there before devouring your mouth once more. His hand slipped around you, slowly coaxing you to turn on your stomach.

You did as he requested, looking over your shoulder to watch him eye your body up and down, his gaze resting upon the swell of your butt. He rested a hand on your lower back, giving a thoughtful hum, biting the inside of his cheek. Under his prying eyes you blushed, but not in embarrassment. It was most flattering.

Dettlaff guided you to rest on your knees, ass lewdly exposed to him, legs parting and showing the work his mouth had already done to you. Your entrance was absolutely soaked and ready for him. He sat behind you, already pushing himself in, watching how you stretched around him. He pressed a thumb against the sensitive patch of skin between your cunt and butthole, taking in the way the tight ring of flesh grazed his cock.

Once he was fully seated inside of you, you let out a pleasant sigh. This was lovely… And he filled you so incredibly well. After a few moments of adaptation, Dettlaff started to move his hips. No matter how warm you were around him, he knew that he just couldn’t keep you waiting.

A soft moan left your throat, more delicious than your previous pleasurable throes. Dettlaff twitched inside of you instantly – oh, you were being so exquisite. The vampire felt all his worries melt away like snow in the searing sun. He fastened his pace, gasping at the sight of you starting to play with your own clit. The gentle circles you fingered around the nub made your legs tingle. Truth be told, you wanted to burst.

“Oh, (Y/n), keep doing that…” he grunted, his skin slapping yours more frequent with his thrusts becoming shallower. He felt that you were close, but he hadn’t even been fucking you for _that_ long, and even though he wanted it to last, Dettlaff knew that you deserved nothing less than your climax.

With that thought in his mind, he gritted his teeth, reaching around your body to do the rubbing of your clit for you. Your hands leaned against the duvet of the bed, clawing at the blanket, your eyes shutting in concentration. A drop of sweat leaked over your chest, causing you to shiver.

“Dettlaff, I… Ah…” You weren’t able to tell him you were nearing your high, but the vampire didn’t need your words to know. Your walls clenched around him so nicely that he couldn’t do anything else but groan, a sound that shook you to the bone. The noise pushed you over the edge and you momentarily lost all control over your body, legs quivering in pleasure.

Your lover held your body tightly against him, your core clamping around him desperately. He rubbed some dark hair from his eyes, continuing to pound into you for what else could he do? He never wanted the moment to end, with you moaning and shaking through your orgasm.

“Marvellous. So absolutely marvellous.” he praised you, leaning forward to press a few wet kissed onto your back. Exhausted, you rested your upper body in the bed, even though Dettlaff hadn’t came yet.

He sighed deeply, knowing he was close to climaxing. Even though he rather wanted to spill inside of you, he felt like it was too soon. Reluctantly, he pulled himself from your depths, releasing your body against the bed. The sight of your drowsy form, plump arse and your breasts pressed against the blankets was more than enough to have Dettlaff stroke himself through a shattering high, and hot stripes of seed painted your back.

“Cheeky…” you mused, opening one eye to look at him. When his climax was completely over, Dettlaff laid down next to you, putting his hand onto your shoulder blades.  
“Well, you’re making it hard to not be a bit naughty.”

You smiled and looked at him, leaning forward to press a small kiss onto his lips.

"Next time, you can cum somewhere else, if you’d like?”  
Dettlaff’s heart jumped. “Next time?”

You laughed lightly. “Of course, silly. No matter what happens after these days, I want you to know that I want to be with you, regardless of the outcome.”

The vampire was momentarily lost for words but soon responded.

“I’d love that.” he whispered. “I want to be with you, too.”

“Good.” you said, closing your eyes.

“As long as we’ll be together, everything will be good.”


	11. Yennefer | On Thin Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Foxxy
> 
> You’re Yennefer’s protegee, but your novelty will not keep your from standing up against the dominant nature of your tutor. Yen isn’t really content with your advances to undermine her authority, and has an unorthodox way of keeping you in line.
> 
> Word count: 3000+  
> Relationship: Mentor/Protegee

The halls of Vizima Palace were high and mighty, yet seemed too small to contain your nerves.

With each passing minute, the pit in your stomach only grew. Those nerve-wracking minutes counting down until Yennefer would come out with your essay in hand, graded to see if you were allowed to stay.

You had been her pupil for a few months now, and needless to say, you had a love-hate relationship with the raven-haired sorceress. As much as you adored her skill, so little you liked her authority.

Yennefer thought of you no different; even though you were skilled - mainly one of the reasons why she chose to tutor you, in order to become Vizima's second royal sorceress - you were a rebellious woman. No older than twenty-seven springs, yet as confident in her skill as someone older than half a century.

She had often warned you to not let pride take the better of you. You usually sneered those words were pretty high coming from someone with her character.

You just hoped that Yennefer would see that you were way better than she thought you were once she read that essay.

Certainly, you had to be one of the best sorceresses the Continent has ever known. Maybe even the best, when you'd reach Yennefer’s current age, you were sure that--

"(Y/n)." Yen's voice sounded monotone and you could read the annoyance on her face. "My office. Now."

Proudly puffing out your chest, you strode after her, assuming that she was intimidated by you, thus striking up the act to be indifferent.

"I'm absolutely, thoroughly and utterly--"

"Impressed?" you cut her off.

"The word I was aiming for was appalled."

You let out a scoff. "I must've misheard. I thought you said you didn't like what I wrote."

"Your ears are perfectly fine, (Y/n). This..."

She held up your essay, a big booklet of parchment scribbled on both sides. With a movement of her arm, she tossed it into the hearth, and before you could protest, it went up in flames. "Is nothing but garbage."  
"What the fuck! Those were the findings of the century!"

"No, (Y/n)! You did _everything_ I told you _not_ to do! Despite my warnings, you went out of your way to get those dragon glands, without my permission! You have no idea what you did, I said you couldn't do it, and-- I am just so fucking fed up with you!"

You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning at her.

"Why don't you just admit you're afraid of me?"

"Afraid? Me?"

Yennefer stepped closer, pointing a gloved finger at you.  
"(Y/n) (L/n), you're an arrogant sorceress, and I am your mentor. You seem to forget that too often."

“Me? Arrogant?” You could barely believe your ears. “Well, look who’s speaking.”

“You won’t ever learn, will you?” Yennefer said, sighing deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Putting your hands on your hips, you scoffed.

“If you stopped treating me like a child, perhaps I’d be more obedient!”

The raven-haired sorceress let out a humourless laugh. “So quit acting like one!”

“I am _not_ acting like it!”  
“To me, you look like a whiny little bitch.”

You balled your hands into fists, knuckles turning white. “Fuck you!” you said, “Fuck you and your lessons!”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow, her violet eyes drilling into you. “Fuck me, hm? After everything I’ve done for you… I think you need to be put in place.”

As she approached, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Fine, go ahead. Go expel me, tell your sorceress-friends all about how stupid I am so they will never take me seriously. Need to discuss with them how you’re going to punish me? Fuck off.”

The sorceress let out a hum of annoyance and stood behind you. “I know another way of punishing you, (Y/n). When you tell me ‘ _fuck you’,_ a fucking is what you’ll get.”

Before you could ask what she meant, you let out a yelp of surprise when an invisible force seemed to grab your wrists. Around them, a dark blue hue betrayed what was going on – the sorceress behind you had cast a spell on you, one leaving you unable to fight back.

“What the fuck are you— Hngh!” Without a warning, something was forced into your mouth, making you gag slightly. Your arms were demanded on your back, wrists tied together by Yennefer’s powerful spell.

With eyes widened, you looked at Yen in disbelief. What the hell was she doing?! The raven-haired woman paced around you, the heels of her boots obnoxiously loud against the tile of the study. She walked over to the door, turning the key which was inside the lock.

“There, now no one can disturb me.” She gestured towards her desk. “Go over there and bend over.”

Confusion filled you but you still did as she said, figuring it wise to follow her command. After all, she would be the only one able to undo the painful spell on your wrists and your mouth, making you unable to speak. You shuffled towards it slowly and halted as you heard Yennefer rummage around in a dresser somewhere behind you.

The click of her boots betrayed her approach and you felt your heart start to drum in your throat with every nearing pace. “I said, bend over.” With a push against your lower back, you had your upper body meet with the wood of the table, along with some yellowed papers next to your head.

“Now,” Yennefer said, reaching around your body, fiddling with the button holding your trousers together. “For beginners, I do not like the way you’re undermining my authority. I _chose_ to tutor you, and you _agreed_ to listen to me. And if there is one thing I hate, it’s when people don’t do what I tell them to do. But no worries. I can beat the obedience out of you.”

With a swift movement, she yanked down your pants and underwear, exposing your bare ass to the warm air in the room. Your eyes widened and you would’ve gasped if it weren’t for the gag in your mouth.

“Bad girls need to be spanked.” Yennefer stated almost matter-of-factly, “Hence why I put that restraint in your mouth. Don’t want you to wake up the entire building, hm?”

A soft brush of something against your ass. Despite the movement being gentle, you noticed the material to be quite firm and rough. “Now, how many would suffice? Let’s start with five and see how you crack under that pressure.”

Suddenly, you realized what she held. And when you did, it was too late to process that thought, because Yennefer decided to give you the first slap right then and there;

_Whap!_

The leather of the whip making contact with your bare skin made you want to cry out in pain. Tears appeared at the corners of your eyes.

_Whap!_

_Whap!_

You felt it start to throb in pain, the unfamiliar sensation causing a sharp ache on your ass. You felt your cheeks become wet and you squeezed your eyes shut, gritting your teeth against the gag.

_Whap!_

“You’re doing well so far, (Y/n).” Yennefer said.

_Whap!_

Cries being muffled by the object in your mouth, you sharply inhaled through your nose. The raven-haired sorceress laid her hand on the expanse of your butt, softly rubbing the angry red welts appearing on it.

The softness of her fingers caused another sound to escape you – it resembled something like a moan. Feeling your legs shake slightly, you felt something hot grow within you.

“Now, five more… I want to hear you whining loudly against that gag of yours. I’m not sure if you’ve learned already.” she sighed.

If you could’ve protested, you certainly would have. The pain was bad, but the pleasure it kindled within you grew. You didn’t want to be embarrassed, not wanting to _feel_ those things towards Yen.

_Whap!_

_Whap!_

Your knees felt weak and the skin of your ass felt like it was bleeding.

_Whap!_

Your core clenched at the impact, relieving some of the friction when you bucked your pelvis against the table. It was uncomfortable, but it was something, at least.

_Whap!_

One more, you thought. One more, and it would be over. Yennefer would release you and you would be able to escape this room, lock yourself up and shamefully bring yourself to your high. Your sexual excitement was too strong and only increased with every hit of that whip.

_Whap!_

Relieved, you sighed deeply. It was over.  
But when Yennefer put her hand on the sore skin of your butt again, stroking the painful lashes, she bent over to press a light kiss onto it.

That’s when it happened – a single, long string of sticky arousal leaked from your cunt down onto the floor. It landed on the floor with a splat, your stomach dropping at the sound. “Well, well, well…” Yennefer sighed, “Would you look at that. I didn’t expect your body to react so deliciously to me, (Y/n).”

You closed your eyes tightly, your face flushing in embarrassment.

Yen’s fingers slid down from your butt to your soaked core, her digits stroking languidly across your folds, testing the waters. You whimpered at the feel, biting on the gag as firmly as you could.

“And look what I found… You’re rather enjoying this, aren’t you? Being stroked like this?”

One of her gloved fingers teased your entrance, the brown leather rough against your sensitive cunt. Yennefer hummed in amusement when your walls clamped around it when she slid in till the first knuckle, curious about your reaction.

The raven-haired sorceress was no stranger to the female body, but seeing how obedient and vulnerable you laid in front of her, your own body betraying you, she decided that she wanted to move further. The sudden desire to be pleasured by you and perhaps return the favour seemed like a perfect punishment for your misbehaviour.

You whimpered when she took out her finger, the glove glistening with your juices as she took it off, replacing the rough material on your ass with a soft hand instead. They were soon upon your leaking entrance again, two fingers this time, slipping in without any warning.

Moaning against the gag, you felt your knees start to become weak. Agonizingly slow, Yennefer started to finger you, her other hand reaching around to feel at your clit. She rubbed teasing circles around the throbbing bud, your throat hitching at the sound of her chuckle.

“My, my… If I had known you have such a pretty cunt, (Y/n)…”

You embarrassedly listened to the sounds emitting from your womanhood being touched, the faint clench of your walls around her deft, slim fingers speaking volumes.

Bracing your upper body against the desk, you tried keeping your ground, refusing to let your legs grow any weaker. A muffled groan against the item in your mouth, your throat starting to hurt.

“Promise to not be too loud?” Yennefer mused, trying to prod another finger into you, something that she didn’t have too much trouble with.  
You nodded vigorously, hoping she’d truly get a little easier on you.

A relieved gasp left you when she waved one hand in the air, undoing the magical spell on your mouth. “What about my hands?” you immediately asked, but you knew that the sorceress wouldn’t be happy with that question.

“You give them one finger…” she tutted to herself, turning her fingers in such a way that she could make the come-hither motion. You chewed on your lip to prevent yourself from moaning out, but a pleased sound left you nevertheless.

Softly rolling yourself into her touch, Yennefer allowed you to come a little closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Yenna…” you murmured, her fingers brushing your g-spot, causing your legs to tremble in pleasure. “You’re going to make me cum.”

She let out a sigh sounding almost annoyed, continuing to stimulate that spot.  
“You can’t cum until I say you can.”

You struggled against the restraints whilst Yennefer kept her wonderful fingers deep inside of you, knowing damn well that you were on the edge.  
“If you cum, you’ll have ten more spanks.”  
Tears stung behind your eyes and your clit throbbed against the wood of the table, uncomfortably rubbing against it.

“Please, Yennefer…” you moaned, your body shaking uncontrollably. And right when you were about to burst, she chose to withdraw herself from your depths, a pitiful sound leaving you.

The raven-haired sorceress tutted punitively, ordering you to stand up.  
Your legs trembled as did your bottom lip, eyes barely daring to look down at her exposed breasts, which she had bared whilst you were facing the other way.

Yennefer wrapped her hand around the back of your neck, pushing you down to her chest. Her mounds were full and a creamy white, her nipples pink and swollen in anticipation.  
Knowing what she wanted of you, you took one of the buds in your mouth, starting to swirl your tongue around it.

The sorceresses’ skin tasted better than you had imagined, and soon, you found yourself with your face pressed in between her breasts, showering them in kisses and soft nibbles. A nimble hand laced itself into your hair, tugging softly at the strands whilst Yen threw back her head in pleasure.

“Done it before?”  
_‘I imagined it’_ , you wanted to say, but decided against it. “No.”

“You’re wonderfully good at this. At least you are talented at _something_.”

There it was again, that degrading tone she often held. You knew it was nothing personal, but you hoped that she would act a little nicer towards you since you had her breast filling your mouth.

After a good few minutes, she tugged your head back from her tits, and you let go of them with a _pop_ and a longing look.  
“Now, do you think that I’ve teased you for quite enough?”

You nodded obediently, letting her push you against the desk again.  
Just when you wanted to protest that you were really uncomfortable with that spell around your wrists, you felt them come undone as if Yennefer had read your mind. You sat down, spreading your legs, exposing yourself to her.

“You’re even more soaked, just when I thought you couldn’t.”

You bit your bottom lip and watched her lean closer the heels of her boots clicking against the floors. Every step made your core tremble even more in anticipation, hoping that she would finally give you your release.

The raven-haired woman hopped onto the desk, right next to you, coaxing you further onto it.  
Doing as she demanded, you watched her with wide-blown eyes, curious as to what she would do.

Yennefer did not kiss you, too intimate an act. Instead, she pulled off one of her boots, flipping it before grabbing it tightly, holding a tight grip on the heel.  
She waved her hand over it for a moment, and it immediately looked cleaner.  
The realization however made you swallow thickly, tensing as she brought the boot to your soaked pussy.

“Easy now. I just sanitized it, so don’t worry about any weird infections.”

“Yennefer…” you sighed, “Please.”

She pressed it against your entrance, eyeing your reaction. You did your best to not flinch, the edges of it quite sharp, though it sent a thrill of pleasure through you.  
The slight stretch was nice, even if the heel was a bit too sharp for your liking.

But you knew that this wasn’t about pleasure.

So while you tried adjusting to the heel being pressed into your cunt, Yen wasted no time in starting to fuck you senseless with it. You moaned out, covering your mouth with your hand.  
Dark hair fell in front of Yennefer’s eyes as she pumped it in and out of you in a firm pace, her other hand reaching over to flick your clit.

“So, what do we think, miss (L/n)? Having second thoughts about disobeying me again?”

If _this_ was what you’d get in exchange for not following her command, you wanted to be punished countless times more.

“If you behave better,” Yennefer stated, ignoring the rolling of your hips against the boot, “you might get something else as well. Good girls get treats.”

For a moment, she brought her finger to her own clothed core, making a rubbing motion.  
“Only girls who behave get a taste of this.”

You could imagine yourself with your head between her legs, or her riding your face, and it only added up to the pit of pleasure building in your stomach.  
“Can I cum?” you begged, “Please, Yennefer, let met cum!”

“Do you promise that you’re going to obey my authority?”

You drawled out a “Yes…” and lolled your head forward, legs shaking as Yennefer pushed you over that edge.

Yen kept fucking you until she was sure that your high was over, pulling the heel from your depths, causing you to wince in pain. She didn’t give you time to gather yourself though, pushing the heel in your mouth to have you clean it.

You gagged and the sorceress smirked. “Now, before the end of the week, I will have an essay from you about… Hierarchy in the world of magic. Otherwise, you shall be removed from the Palace grounds. Do I make myself clear?”

She put her boot back on and started tucking her breasts back into her shirt, looking over her shoulder expectantly when you did not answer.

“Well?”

“Yes, Yennefer.”

“That’s what I like to hear. If you deliver great work, perhaps you’re in for another treat. Clean yourself up.”

You laid back on the desk exhausted when you listened to the click of her heels disappearing, the sound of the door opening and closing again pulling you out of your thoughts.

There was no other way and you had no choice. But the promise of an eventual second encounter with her motivated you all the more.  
Who knew that training to become a court sorceress would be so entertaining?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies!
> 
> Sorry for not updating for awhile, I was away from home.  
> I have an announcement to make: The next few weeks I won't be as active on here anymore.  
> I might write some HC's, but no new chapters for MfT this month!   
> Reason for that is that I am going to work on my mental health and try to get some motivation again.   
> My personal life has been tough lately and I'm exhausted.  
> Hope you understand! I will return, of course! Requests via Discord will open back up (Link below)
> 
> Hang in there and see you soon.
> 
> Kisses, Gauntie
> 
> Discord: https://discord.gg/bAYQxM8


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